Transformers Titan: Distant Stars
by kira444
Summary: As the forces of Optimus Prime and Megatron fight on Terra, the rest of the Autobots and Decepticons continue their long and destructive war in the stars. These are the stories of the mechanoids who take part in this conflict as they fight both each other and greater threats from beyond. (Revision!)
1. Introduction

Transformers Titan

Distant Stars

Introduction

Hello readers and welcome to Transformers Titan: Distant Stars. Distant Stars is a collection of stories that expands and deepens the Titan universe, focusing on characters good and bad. These chapters take place far from Terra, where the Autobot/Decepticon war is being waged across the galaxy in a time period in cybertronian history called the "Remote Age", in which the war spreads to other worlds after the Fall of Cybertron. The concept behind this story is based on Furman's Spotlight series for the IDW-verse.

Distant Stars takes place at the same time as Awakening, Escalation and the stories after it. The chapters are not set in any chronological order, taking place at various points in the Titan timeline. Some chapters are standalone, while others are a part of an overarching plot. This is meant to put focus on the wider universe and flesh out various characters, mainly Autobots and Decepticons, who fight in the war, as well as introduce some characters and elements that might appear later in the series. Distant Stars won't largely interfere with the main story on Terra, but the effects and consequences born from the conflicts in this story will be felt at large.


	2. Adrift part 1

Chapter 1-Adrift part 1

Sunstreaker hated desert worlds. He just knew that Primus or whatever other god out there hated him for some trivial reason and it always led to him being stuck on missions to planets that were either too close or too far from its sun. This mission was one such occasion, heading a security detail for an Autobot recon team setting up a relay station on a planet orbiting a binary star system. No signs of life, primitive or intelligent (personally he didn't see the difference when it came to organics), just sands. Lots and lots of sand.

"All this sand is making my finish dry up." Sunstreaker grumbled.

His partner, Side Burn sighed and gave him a tired glance. "Sunny, let it go. If you keep that attitude, you're going to make the mission feel longer than it already is."

"I don't care. This is the fifth desert planet I've been sent to in two deca-cycles and I'm getting sick of it!"

"If Kup hears you complaining, he's going to tan your hide." Side Burn grinned.

"Who gives a damn what that gas basket thinks? He's too busy trying to hold his chassis together." Sunstreaker sneered. He glared back at the technicians working on the relay station. "I've got better things to do than watch these tech heads play in the sand."

"Sunstreaker, would you shut it! You're putting me on edge here!" Clench, the third member of their team, hissed. Sunstreaker and Side Burn looked at him curiously.

"What's with you, Clench?" Side Burn asked.

"I've been hearing reports of a Decepticon battleship roaming this area of the quadrant. Three Autobot divisions were already wiped out by them and, you know, I don't want us to be the fourth." Clench said softly. Sunstreaker rolled his eyes.

"Grow some bearings, Cleng. What would the Cons be doing on a planet as boring as this one?" Sunstreaker laughed. "Who were you expecting? Megatron, Strika, or heaven forbid, Shockwa-"

"KILL THEM ALL!"

That was their only warning as the Autobots were suddenly attacked by a barrage of plasma fire that came from the Decepticon platoon that emerged from their hiding places. Sunstreaker didn't need to give the order to attack as he and his team fought back, but were quickly outmatched as soon as particle cannons and heat seeking concussion missiles entered the fray. The recon team took cover behind anything they could find while their comrades tried to hold off the advancing Cons.

"Where the hell did they come from?" Side Burn yelled over the explosions and screams.

"Who cares, just torch 'em!" Sunstreaker fired his heat cannons at the Cons and took a missile to his shoulder that blasted him into a boulder. "Clench, get the nerds out of here!"

Clench nodded and had a few Autobots join him as he ran out of his cover and made his way towards the cowering technicians. But before he could even make it halfway, an expertly thrown combat knife was embedded into the back of his head, slicing his brain case in half and killing him instantly. Sunstreaker and Side Burn turned to his attacker; a lithe Decepticon with black and gold armor who dual wielded two plasma rifles that was leading the charge.

"Come on, kill them all!" Deadlock shouted, firing both guns as he charged at the overwhelmed Autobots. Another division of Cons appeared on the Autobots' immediate right, this one firing heavy weapons at them. Seeing that the odds were not in their favor, Sunstreaker swallowed his pride and did the smart thing in a situation like this.

"Retreat!" He yelled. "Everyone' retreat! We're pulling out of here!"

Sunstreaker, Side Burn and the remainder of their team either ran, drove, or flew away as fast as they could, with the rear guard providing cover fire. Sadly, they were shot down before they could get a chance to run. Deadlock was the only Con close enough to tear through the rear guard, shooting them down before shooting at the retreating Autobots. His division didn't stop firing until the Autobots were little specks in the distance.

"We did it!" Deadlock laughed, firing his guns into the air. "Someone track their position. Once we've located their ship, we'll-"

"Do what?" Stumbling out of hiding, unseen in the shootout and recognized by his grating, whining voice, Crankcase looked at his superior and bitterly vented, "We weren't even supposed to start a fight unless fired upon! Our orders were to do recon! But no, you had to go and add a couple more Autobots to your kill count. Turmoil is not going to be happy about this Deadlock."

Eyes narrowing into slits, Deadlock approached his outspoken subordinate. "And who's going to tell him? You?"

"Damn right! You keep acting out like this and you think we aren't going to report you? Someone has to report this mess and it might as well-"

Crankcase's rant was interrupted by a swift backhanded slap from Deadlock, the blow shattering one of his optic lens and sending him crashing into the remains of a building. The wounded Decepticon attempted to get up, only to get kicked back down and have his left hand blasted apart by a plasma bolt, prompting a pained cry.

His point made, Deadlock leaned down and glared at him. "Turmoil listens to me, not you. And my choosing to attack the Autobots is none of his damn business! No whining little scout is going to tell me what I can and can't do!"

He ground his foot into the mech's smoking stump to further emphasize his point, getting more screams from him. Terror in his eyes, Jetblade nonetheless spoke up. Unnecessary cruelty aside, there was no sense in scrapping one of their own.

"Deadlock, come on, you've made your point. Just let him-"

The ivory Seeker snapped shut as Deadlock pointed his gun to his head. "Maybe I wasn't clear the first time. If one more bot, questions me, I'm gonna tear out your-"

An electrical surge went through his body, Blackjack's trident embedded in his side. The overload caused Deadlock to drop like a rock, the orange Seeker standing over him. It was one thing to violate orders and wound one of his own men, but it was another to threaten one of his Seeker brothers.

Jetblade looked over at his unconscious commander. "Is he dead?"

"No, he's in stasis. I'll tell Turmoil what happened." Blackjack slung Deadlock over his shoulder and nodded over at their fourth member. "Help him up. We're not leaving him behind, we can't afford it."

The smaller of the Seekers helped Crankcase to his feet and they followed after Blackjack with the rest of the platoon. Crankcase let out a pained moan at his stump, which was still sparkling.

"Ugh, I have to get this replaced." He groaned. "You think I'll get a kick ass claw hand like Liokaiser?"

A small part of Jetblade almost wished Deadlock had torched Crankcase's vocoder. At least he'd be silent for the rest of the way.

XXXXXX

When Deadlock finally woke up, he found himself no longer under the hot desert suns, but inside the cold interior of a militaristic warship. Seeing that he was being held in place by two Decepticons, he recognized his surroundings as the bridge of his division's battleship, the Acheron.

"Well, ain't you a piece of work?" A deep, rumbling voice drawled. Deadlock scowled and faced his commander.

Turmoil was a Decepticon as big as Megatron and was a mech that earned fear and respect from (most) of his subordinates. He was midnight black, with a cold fusion cannon that made up his right forearm that was large enough to reach his spiked knees. Turmoil wore the scars and dents of battle and wasn't one to really care about his scratched paint job unlike a certain red medic. Treads locked behind his forelegs gave the indication of a tank alt mode. Aside from his cannon, another notable feature was the piece of metal covering the right side of his optical visor, a war wound he gained from Springer of the Wreckers.

"You're getting way too big for you chasis, Deadlock." Turmoil said. "What am I going to do with you?"

Deadlock smirked. "You could always let me loose. Who knows; maybe I'll skip tearing you a new one and go nuts on the Autobots."

The onlookers grumbled together at the insult to their commander, but Turmoil waved them down. He was no Megatron, but many treated him as if he was. Turmoil was not someone you insulted and got away with it. He was on a level akin with Strika and Obsidian. But Deadlock was not known for respecting authority.

"You got the same orders as everyone else. Avoid notice, maintain your surveillance. We know the Autobots are up to something; Strika wouldn't give us the specifics on something like that for her amusement. And yet here you go, blowing your cover at a moment's notice. And for what?"

"Why the hell do you think we're fighting this war?" Deadlock growled. "The more Autobots we kill, the faster this war gets done."

Turmoil shook his head. "The Autobots killed, the faster a battle is won. Winning a battle and winning a war are two different things. I thought you were smart than that."

"I'm trying to win a war, while the rest of you rusting bozos seem content to drift around in space with your guns up your asses!" Deadlock snarled. "We're not getting anywhere by playing games with the Autobots!"

"This is why you're with us and not with high command. Megatron may have brought you into our fold, but that doesn't mean you can criticize his decisions, or be the scrap out of your subordinate." Turmoil stood over Deadlock, his yellow visor glaring into Deadlock's red eyes. "Even if he is a whiny little glitch, Crankcase didn't deserve to be roughed up like that."

"You're right. Maybe I should've killed him on the spot." Deadlock replied. "Then worked my way up to you."

A rumble rippled through Turmoil's chest, a deep growl that sounded more like a furnace reaching maximum capacity. "I'm beginning to think I need a new XO. You're becoming increasingly reckless. Desperate."

"You need me Turmoil." Deadlock growled.

Turmoil pointed his cold fusion cannon at Deadlock's face. "Like I need a disease."

Deadlock waited until he could feel the frost radiating from Turmoil's cannon to make his move. When the cannon hummed to life, he kicked Turmoil's arm to the side and the Con holding his right arm still had his head blasted off by a cold fusion blast. With one arm free, Deadlock punched the other Con in the face and made a mad dash out of the room. Turmoil roared and ordered his men into action.

"Stop him!" He shouted. Turmoil fired another blast from his cannon, but Deadlock had leapt over it, allowing the beam to kill and freeze a guard standing in his way.

Deadlock himself ran like Unicron was on his tail. Blaster bolts hit the floor and walls around him, but only three managed to hit his back and shoulder. The inhibitor claw on his arm kept him from transforming, but he wasn't going to do much of anything if he was stuck on this hellish ship.

So the first thing he did was head straight for the ship's shuttle bay and head to where the escape pods were. After stopping to fool around on the computer terminal, Deadlock hopped into an escape pod and smirked at his pursuers as the hatch slid closed. The pod was ejected just as the guards ran into the room and within seconds the autopilot had already sent the pod miles away from the warship.

Back on the bridge, an infuriated Turmoil was still trying to capture the rogue that caused him so much trouble. "Track that escape pod!"

"We're trying to, but it's no use." One of the pilots said. "Our systems are in emergency lockdown."

"What?!"

"He initiated the emergency system protocols! By the time we're up and running again, he'll be long gone."

Turmoil growled and looked at the comm-station. "Spread the word. Deadlock has abandoned ship and is on the run. Kill on sight."

XXXXXX

Deadlock had no idea how long he was flying or where he was going, but he knew it was at least an hour had passed-that was how long it took him to try and fail to get the inhibitor claw off his arm. The pod didn't have any external cameras and with the autopilot engaged, it was programmed to head to the nearest planet.

He began to feel the pod shake a bit as it entered the atmosphere of the designated planet and held onto his seat as it crashed into the ground. The red hot pod bounced a couple of times before skidding to a stop in the dirt, leaving behind a deep trench in its wake. Once he was sure he wasn't going to cough up his brain module, Deadlock popped open the hatch and climbed out into the hot desert air. He jumped to the ground and studied his surroundings. Nothing but a vast expanse of sandy desert, with some mountains in the distance.

He gave a low sigh and looked up at the blue sky. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, his T-cog still disabled with enemies on both sides gunning for him. He was alone. It was nothing new to him, as he was always alone, even before the war. But it wasn't a good feeling, and memories of his time as a lower caste scrub came rushing back. He swore to himself that he would never end up that way, and he'll be damned if he let some ancient piece of slag like Turmoil drag him down again.

Then he smelled something in the air. Oil, smoke, signs of habitation. Deadlock frowned; he didn't recall seeing anything upon his descent, and the computer didn't detect anything either. But it didn't hurt to explore it. It was only a matter of time before Turmoil of some other second rate Con found his location and he needed to get his aft off this planet as soon as possible. Leaving Decepticon controlled territory is a must.

"Well, not like I have anything else to do today." Deadlock sighed and made the long trek to the distant mountain range on foot. This was going to be a long trip.

XXXXXX

When Deadlock finally made it to the mountains, the sun had already set and night had fallen. His feet were sore and scratched, the burns from the laser bolts that hit him were starting to feel irritated from all the sand and dirt flying around and he was sure his lubricants were drying up from the hot sunlight. But he kept going, the sooner he found a way off this rock, the better.

Ignoring his exhaustion, Deadlock climb the jagged cliff face all the way to the top, where he finally found signs of habitation. This planet was providing have to someone other than himself. Inside the mountain, which was hollowed out, was a massive facility, a makeshift prison most likely. If there were other aliens like him here, then that meant they had ships he could use. But the question of the day was who the guys that set up shop here were?

When he went to sneak in for a closer look, Deadlock sensed a presence behind him and instinctively lashed out with a punch. The figure standing behind him, standing at tall as him and clad in tight, word robes from head to toe, flipped away from him. Deadlock attacked him with a series of punches, but none of them connected as the mysterious figure easily deflected his strikes. The person then jumped back and held his hands up in the universal sign for non-hostile.

"Calm yourself, friend." He said. "I mean you know harm."

Deadlock snorted at the nameless warrior. "Friend? You don't know me."

"I don't need to know you to mean you no harm. I am your ally. My name is Wing." The stranger said. "Where did you come from? You're not from this planet. Are there others of your kind with you?"

"I need a ship. I need to get out of here." Deadlock said, ignoring Wing's questions. He was hard for him to gauge Wing's species with the tight wrappings of cloth concealing his identity. "Are you one of them? Friends of yours down there?"

"They're friends to no one. They're slave traders. They capture all manner of races and bring them here." Wing drew Deadlock's attention to a part of the prison full of holding cells imprisoning people of multiple races. "You need a ship? I can help you. In turn, you'll help me."

"Help you?" Deadlock grimaced. He hated being in debt to anybody.

"I wish to free their captives. Alone, it would be impossible, but together-"

"I need a gun." Deadlock cut in. After a second, he quickly added, "Two guns."

Wing chuckled and pointed down the edge of the mountain's interior. "We can strike the guards on the underpass first. You can use their armaments. Once we free the captives, we'll commandeer you a ship. You can take the captives with you."

"Not likely."

"I can't leave this planet. You must do this." Wing said, unconcerned with Deadlock's refusal. "Helping another is the highest calling one can aspire to."

Deadlock sneered at him. "You sound like an Autobot."

"What does an Autobot sound like?"

"Weak."

The aliens that ran the joint were reptilian in nature; bipedal snake-like males with heads akin to a terran cobra, and bodies outfitted with cybernetic augmentations. They were about as large as the average cybertronian, and sported smooth, scaly purple skin and narrow yellow eyes. Deadlock and Wing suck down the slope until they stood on the rocky, narrow ledge above two guards on patrol.

Wing took care of the first guard with ease, jumping down behind him like a ghost and punching him in the throat, knocking him out. Deadlock wasn't as graceful with his fight with the other guard. The reptilian soldier took his first punch with little effect and shoved his palm in Deadlock's face. Deadlock cursed and jerked back as flames spewed from the cyborg's and broke the guard's arm in retaliation. He slammed his forehead into the guard's skull, giving him a concussion and knocking him out.

"Dumb bastard." Deadlock growled and spat on his body. "Alright Wing, the guards are down…"

He trailed off as he turned to Wing, who was hit by the jet of flames and had his cloak burned to cinders…to reveal a lithe white body with white armor plating and a long sword strapped to his back.

"You're a Cybertronian?" Deadlock gaped and then scowled. "I knew you were an Autobot!"

"I'm no Autobot." Wing said smoothly, his bright blue eyes boring into Deadlock's yellow ones.

"Well you're not a Decepticon, that's for sure." He shot back. "What are you?"

"Alone is what I am. I'm alone." Wing replied firmly. "Now if you want to get out of here, we better get moving."

Deadlock took the guards' weapons, a pair of high caliber plasma rifles with extremely strong magnetic coils for maximum energy output. High quality stuff for a group of space faring slave traders. He and Wing sneaked closer to the prison section and looked down at the massive domed area.

"The captives are directly below us."

"And the ships?"

"Far end." Wing answered. "When the alarm sounds, you keep them back. I'll open the cells." Wing paused for a moment and looked at Deadlock. "What's your name?"

Deadlock briefly considered giving Wing a false alias, but decided that since he wasn't going to see the do-gooder again after this, figured it wouldn't hurt to tell him his real name. "Deadlock."

"Good luck, Deadlock." Wing nodded. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Together they jumped down into the gorge and the second they passed through the invisible sensor array, alarms went off all over the facility. Wing dropped down right in front of the cells.

"Deadlock, we need to hurry before-Deadlock?" Wing looked around and saw Deadlock making a run for one of the ships. "What are you doing?"

Deadlock ignored Wing as he made his getaway. He could care less about the organics Wing wanted to risk his aft for. If he wanted to help them so bad, then he should make a home for those fleshies on this planet. There's enough space for one. As for Deadlock himself, he was getting the hell off this rock before the Cons followed his trail.

He already spotted a shuttle just a few feet away from him and ran straight for it. But in his haste, he failed to notice the giant lizard-like cyborg dropping down on him until he brute slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground, hard. Dazed from the blow, Deadlock tried to reach for his gun, but the lizard brute slammed his large fists into his back, further damaging him and nearly shattering his spinal column.

As the cyborg stepped away from him, Deadlock used the remnants of his strength to push himself over onto his back, his body severely damaged. He saw more cyborgs standing over him, with the leader standing taller than most of the group with more prominent frills and a toothy grin pointed down at him.

"Well, well. A Decepticon." The clan leader smirked. "Interesting."

After hearing that, Deadlock's body finally failed him and his vision faded into darkness as he went into stasis lock.

XXXXXX

Deadlock heard murky voices all around him as his systems switched back on after a lengthy period of unconsciousness. When his optics finally came back on, a slew of diagnostic readings filtered his vision, which he blinked away immediately. That was when he noticed two people leaning over him. He recognized Wing, but the other mech, a gigantic mech who probably stood as tall as 39 feet, was someone he didn't know, and he didn't like strangers sticking their mugs in his face.

"Are all systems back online, Grandus?" Wing asked.

"Yup, he's fully functional." Grandus said, his voice surprisingly soft despite his massive bulk. "He's starting to move."

Deadlock slowly sat up on the medical slab, his body no longer in pain, but still felt a little stiff. In fact, he looked as good as new; his purple and gold armor was gone, replaced with a seamless white and grey body frame that was more streamlined and new.

"What's happening?" Deadlock asked, his voice a bit garbled. Adjusting his vocal synthesizer, he asked again, "Wha-what's going on?"

"Calm down, Deadlock. You're alright." Wing said assuredly. "Your body was severely damaged and your exoskeleton was almost complexly destroyed."

"We rebuilt you, Decepticon." Grandus said, hovering behind Wing protectively. "Your life was saved."

"Rebuilt me?" Deadlock hopped off the slab and scrambled back toward the door. "Who are you people?"

"This is Grandus. He's the mech who refitted your body to sustain your Spark." Wing said. "I took you out of there before those slavers could do anymore damage. You would've died without medical assistance."

"Took me out of-where's here?" Deadlock demanded.

"My dojo, young one."

Deadlock spun around to face an old mech that walked through the door. He wasn't that tall, standing a few inches under Deadlock, but he looked sturdy, and had an air of strength about him. The mech was a mixture of gold and white, with two halves of a wolf's head on his shoulders. His face sported facial extensions that resembled a beard, and his helmet was ornately decorated with curved extensions that served a more ceremonial purpose than anything else.

"Master Yoketron," Wing said, bowing his head along with Grandus. "We were coming to get you. Our guest has awakened."

"I can see that. He's a lively one, isn't he?" Yoketron said wryly, and looked up at the ex-Con. "So you're the mech the Decepticons call Deadlock. I've heard many stories about you."

"Hmph, and I've heard a lot of stories about you, Yoketron of Carpessa. The martial arts master exiled by the senate into the wilderness." Deadlock looked Yoketron up and down. "Huh, you don't look like anything special."

"That's because I'm old, bot. Of course I'm not as visually imposing as you'd hoped. Age does not treat our kind well, as you can see." Yoketron went on, but was cut off impatiently by Deadlock.

"Yeah, yeah, boohoo, old timer." Deadlock growled. "Now tell me where the hell you lackies took me to."

"We're in my dojo, as I have already told you." The old master smiled at Deadlock's growing impatience. "But if you're referring to where the dojo is, then you are in our sanctuary-the New Crystal City."

Yoketron led Deadlock out of the room to show him his new environment. It was indeed a dojo, a large training area situated in front of a temple with a curved, ornate architecture reminiscent of a Terran Nipponese-style construction. Deadlock was standing in the dojo's medical center which was situated next to the long staircase that descended past the training courtyard and armory to the rest of the city.

To Deadlock, it all looked like a dream. A massive city of gleaming silver and sapphire, all of it underground. Much of the towering buildings were curved and round, like Iacon's golden metropolis, but most of the region sported a design akin to the Acroplex, the ancient city near Nyon that served as the capital of Old Cybertron, which consisted of pointed spires and pyramids and hard, angular domes. Though he would never openly admit it, Deadlock would come to see all of this as beautiful. And it was all built underground.

"I take it he's speechless, Master." Wing noted with a smile.

Yoketron nodded. "Indeed, Wing. I believe this is a first for him."

XXXXXX

Deadlock found it difficult to properly say anything as Wing took him into the courtyard down below, near a water fountain. As he showed Deadlock around, Wing explained the origins of this hidden city.

"It was more horrific than we had ever imagined." Wing began somberly. "Two factions at war and so many eager to choose sides. Before long, the planet was engulfed and those refusing to take art had little hope of survival. Then the Circle of Light had convened and a decision was made. The war was still young when our number had left Cybertron behind to find solace in the stars. To begin with, we didn't go far, but when the war spread to other planets and systems, we realized that we'd have to take more extreme measures. We found somewhere new, somewhere inconspicuous and hidden…underground."

Wing waved his arms at the magnificent city around them. "We had the beginning of a new society, a new Cybertron." He continued. "Those who choose to come with us were mostly scholars and scientists. The rest were those fleeing for their lives, not wishing to take part in an ideological battle."

"Ideological?" Deadlock growled. "We were at war for the future of Cybertron! We were at war for-"

"Your war damned the future of Cybertron." Wing said with more strength in his voice than Deadlock thought he had. And it only made him angrier.

"We were a force of revolution, a sign of change. We fought against the senate, the Functionists, Sentinel, Zeta, everyone who walked over us and treated us like dirt!" Deadlock got in Wing's face and glared at him. "Which was more than what you self-entitled frags ever did for us!"

We rescued thousand and took action to protect what was left of the cybertronian way of life."

"But you frags didn't do a damn thing to save our world other than cry and moan! Where was the Circle of Light when Tarn was leveled by the Senate? Where was Dai Atlas when Zeta Prime torched Nyon with a fleet of Omega Sentinels? We Decepticons, no the Autobots, not the Circle and not your precious Yoketron, took the initiative and brought about change!"

"And what do you have to show for it?" Wing asked. The question caught Deadlock off guard and Wing pushed forward. "Look around you. This is no mere city, it is a utopia. No sickness, no poverty, no one forgotten to fall between the cracks."

Deadlock snorted and looked away. "A false paradise created by a blind cult."

Wing shook his head. "What is it you're fighting for? What is it that convinced you to take up arms? You're no run of the mill brute. You believe in something, I can see it."

"You see nothing."

"Cybertron was falling apart before the war. Our society was sick and bloated and rotten. Do you remember?" Wing asked. "Do you remember how difficult it was? Because for some, it was almos impossible."

Deadlock didn't say anything. He remembered it all very clearly. The homelessness, the drug abuse, the constant struggles. It was all a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. Stuck in a society where what you transformed into determined if you were worth anything; if you were worthy enough to be seen as an intelligent being. He went through that hell once before and he didn't want to go through that again.

He hated being alone, but loneliness loved him it seemed.

His lamentation was interrupted by the sound of heavy feet against the smooth tiles and saw two mechs, security officers judging by the badges and their weapons, standing in front of them.

"Wing," One of them said. "Dai Atlas wants a word with you."

XXXXXX

In the atrium of the citadel, Wing stood before an assembled council of high ranking Circle of Light members who decided important matters in the city. At the head of the council was Dai Atlas, a towering mech with dark blue armor who once had a seat on the Senate, and later the Conclave that followed. Another known fact was that he had a short temper.

"You had no right to bring that Decepticon here, Wing!" Dai Atlas boomed, glaring at the young warrior. "Let alone revealing yourself to the slavers."

"He was in need, Dai Atlas. As were the prisoners in that camp." Wing said.

"He is a Decepticon."

"He's one of our kind."

"Decepticons are not our kind!" Dai Atlas roared.

Wing shook his head. "So after all these years of preaching against factions, we've created our own. Is that it?"

"We are the Circle of Light, the guardians of Cybertron's ancient culture." Dai Atlas sighed. "You know our laws. We must not involve ourselves with an outsiders! Nothing is more important than preserving what we have here!"

"At what cost? Our own compassion? Those prisoners need us. He needs us." Wing argued. "If he goes to the surface, they'll kill him."

Another large mech, Powerhug, stepped between the arguing mechs to split them up. "His ways could influence our people, Wing." He said. "His very presence could potentially draw more Decepticons here, and with them the war we've fought so long to avoid."

"Violence is their only language. If he betrays us, if he destroys what we have here, the burden will be yours and yours alone." Dai Atlas said, putting immense weight to his words. "For now, the Decepticon is your responsibility. You will stay with him at all times. And he is not to be exposed to the people of this city."

"He won't betray us. I know he won't." Wing promised.

Dai Atlas scoffed. "And how can you possibly guarantee that?"

XXXXXX

Deadlock looked around at the rest of the dojo as Yoketron gave him a little tour of the place. He ignored the scathing looks the other resident thrown his way, but eventually he got tired of everyone trying to set him on fire with their eyes and stopped Yoketron in the courtyard near the training area.

"Look, I appreciate you guys rebuilding me and all, but don't think I'm going to stay here for the rest of my life." He said.

"You don't like it here?" Yoketron asked.

"The city's great, but the Circle of Light's slag gets old very quickly." Deadlock replied and walked toward the entrance. "I'm going to find a ship and ditch this god awful planet…"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." Deadlock paused and looked back at Yoketron. "If you go outside to the surface, you will be captured, or worse, immediately killed. I cannot allow another cybertronian, whatever their background, to be slain before my eyes can prevent it."

The ex-Decepticon didn't know if he should be touched by Yoketron's concern or annoyed by it. "Then is there another way out?"

"Of course, and I will show you, if, and only if, you can defeat me in unarmed combat." Yoketron said.

"I kick your aft and you show me the way out?" Deadlock was dumbfounded. "What if I kill you?"

"If I am dead, then every person in this dojo will come down on you like a storm and any hope of escape dies with me." He answered.

"And if I say frag it and find my own way out?"

"Then you give Dai Atlas a reason to kill you, and he is not as forgiving as Wing and I. Your best option is to fight me and show enough restraint for me to live."

"And if you kill me?"

I have not taken the life of a single Cybertronian since I was born at the start of the Golden Age. I am not about to indulge in such actions now."

Deadlock considered his options. Yoketron had some good points, or at least some reasonable ones, and had all but promised not to slag him. And besides, Yoketron was ancient, and age was never kind to a Cybertronian who neglected self-maintenance, no matter how many upgrades they had. Deadlock was confident in his chances.

But where was the fun in beating up a rusty, clearly senile old bot?

Deadlock spun around and shifted into vehicle mode, driving towards the doors, only to be sent flying rear bumper over front by a kick he didn't even see coming. He crashed hard on the floor and reverted to his bipedal form, staring at Yoketron in shock.

"You will have to do better than that." Yoketron gave him a bemused grin.

Deadlock growled and got to his feet, running at the old master with fists raised. He threw a punch at Yoketron, but missed the old mech completely. He threw another punch and got the same result. The next few minutes involved Deadlock trying to land a blow on Yoketron, but only hitting air. The master deftly swerved out of his reach, moving around him like water. Finally, Deadlock threw a kick at Yoketron's head, but had his leg grabbed and his entire body spun around in the air in a tight mid-air spin before hitting the ground.

"They say third time's the charm, young one." Yoketron smiled.

Deadlock shook his head in absolute shock as he got to his feet. "How the hell are you doing this?"

"I am a master of many martial arts. Circuit-Su, Crystalacution, Diffusion, metallikato, and many others both common and arcane. Compared to me, you are as slow as…"

Yoketron tiled his head to avoid Deadlock's wild swing and landed a palm strike to his chest. He spun around and landed another blow to the back of Deadlock's head, bringing the mech to his knees.

"As slow as a Dibison." Yoketron chuckled. He offered a hand. "This is your first lesson, Deadlock. Appearances can be deceiving."

Deadlock considered attacking again, but decided against it and allowed Yoketron to help him up. "I'll remember that."

Good, I have many more lessons for you, my student." Yoketron said. As if expecting a complaint, he looked at his new disciple and asked, "You have no objections to this?"

"Beats staying in my room for the rest of my life." Deadlock said. "Besides, you're my only hope of getting out of here."

"You are incorrect, young one." Yoketron raised a finger. "I am not who you need to beat in order to leave."

Deadlock frowned. "Then who is?"

Yoketron pointed behind him. "Him."

Deadlock turned around just in time to have a foot hook around his leg and bring him off balance, sending him to the floor. He groaned in exhaustion and saw Wing leaning over him.

"Welcome to Crystal City, Deadlock." Wing said.

Deadlock growled and rushed at Wing, who promptly kicked him in the chest and twisted his arm behind his back, taking him into a submission hold. Deadlock recognized this as one of those non-lethal Autobot diffusion moves.

"We're going to do this every day. Every day, I'm going to give you a chance to beat me." Wing said, not lessening the pressure on Deadlock's arm. "You know how it goes. Beat me, and you go free. If you don't…"

"If I don't?" Deadlocked asked, gritting his teeth in anger.

"You're here forever."

"Some deal," Deadlock growled. "You've had years of training."

"And you haven't?" Wing replied.

"Not without a gun."

Wing let go of his arm and spun him around to face him. "So learn, Decepticon."

Deadlock realized that he was going to spend a long time in this god damned city. Primus above, this was going to be torture.

* * *

 **Distant Stars is a collection of stories that expands and deepens the Transformers Titan universe. This story tells the stories of the Autobots and Decepticons in the greater galaxy as they fight their war and takes a look inside their minds. The timeline of these stories take place after the War for Cybertron, during what's known as the "Remote Age" when the war spreads to the rest of the galaxy. Some chapters take place in the distant past, others during the main storyline. Some chapters are stand alone while others are apart of an overarching plot. They are meant to expand the Titan universe and introduce characters and plot elements that might appear later on in the series. It's a big universe, so why not explore it in greater detail?**

 **This is a revision of Distant Stars, which will have two volumes, the second vol being called Transformers: Mosiac.**


	3. Adrift part 2

Chapter 2-Adrift part 2

Braid, the Fareen leader of the Wraiths, was not in a good mood. The slave trader had just returned from an off word trading agreement only to find that his base was invaded-by two cybertronians of all things! Two intruders had managed to infiltrate his base and attempted to free his "merchandise" and stela a ship on top of that. One was a mech of unknown faction, but the other was a rather infamous Decepticon that his men had serious wounded. They would've had a prisoner by now if the other one hadn't killed three of his men and ran off with the downed mech.

Cybertronians. As much as he admired their unique biomechanical biology, Braid was not a fan of them, like most aliens these days. They never knew when to keep their skid plates out of other people's business, always interfering in matters that didn't concern them. Braid himself had lost a lot of money and resources to the Decepticons every time they invaded a planet, or when a world was rendered a smoldering heap of slag after a large scale battle between the two factions. Let's not forget having to deal with some heroic Autobot team trying to liberate his slaves and bring him to "justice". Braid lost count of how many Autobot ships he shot down because they wanted to play hero.

"I don't what you do," Braid snarled to his hunters. "Find those cybertronians and bring them to me! If those scrapheaps are here, then more must be close by."

"Y-Yes, sir!" The frightened slaver stammered before rounding up scouts for the mission.

Braid's frills fluttered in agitation and his tongue tasted the air, noting the distinct smell of metal and energon that made his nostrils burn. He couldn't even breathe without thinking of them!

Brontor, one of his larger heavy set warriors, stepped up to him. "Braid, we've got on incoming message."

"From who?"

"A bounty hunter. He says he's looking for a Decepticon seen in this region of space."

Braid rubbed his forehead and sat up in his chair. "Did you get his name?"

"He said to call him Lockdown."

XXXXXX

Over the past few weeks since arriving at the New Crystal City (Deadlock hated how pretentious it sounded, naming this place after a mythical city), Deadlock tried as hard as he could to defeat Wing, and each time he was met with the same result-failure. Figuring out and being able to count one move simply led to the implementation of another, progressively more difficult move to defeat. The one advantage he gained was that he wasn't tiring as quickly as before, and that was a small comfort.

"Hya!"

Deadlock sent a spin-kick at Wing, but missed his head as the mech ducked under his leg. Deadlock angled his body to lash out with his other leg, but Wing caught the limb and threw him to the ground. Deadlock shot back up and punched at Wing, but the mech caught his fist and threw him over his shoulder back to the ground. Wing shook his head.

"Too slow." He said. "We've been at this for weeks, but you're still too obvious with your attacks. Hide your intentions."

Deadlock gritted his teeth and lunged at Wing. Wing sidestepped his punch but was pleasantly surprised to see Drift catch his right leg in a tight hold and pull him off balance to bring him down. Deadlock tried to make that work to his advantage, but Wing stood on his hands and spun around, kicking Deadlock in the face and knocking him back.

"Come on, Deadlock, where's all that Decepticon power and superiority?" Wing taunted. "If you want to conquer the galaxy, you need to try harder than that."

Deadlock got to his knees, panting profusely to cool his systems. Not looking at Wing, he growled," That's not why I joined."

"What?"

"That's not why I joined!" Deadlock yelled, pushing Wing back. "I didn't join to "conquer" anything! I joined to make Cybertron a better world for myself, for my people!"

"And starting a war was your way of doing that?" Wing asked.

"Megatron never wanted a war." Deadlock spat. "When he killed Zeta Prime, we had won our war against the senate. We were going to have our race become the greatest in the galaxy. No, he never wanted a war, he wanted a better world. Don't you see?"

"That he wanted a better world isn't the question. Who he wanted that better world for is still debatable."

Deadlock got to his feet scowling. "He wanted a better world for all of us! You've been around long enough to see what we've bene through! How we were treated like disposable tools, with the senate lording over us using fear and manipulating to cow the people. If it wasn't them, it was the Functionists preaching the so-called word of Primus, trying to justify committing genocide on people who aren't even useful to them anymore! The high and mighty bots didn't have to worry about that, but the rest of us do!" He sighed. "Before I was a Decepticon, I was forced to scrounge and beg for handouts just to survive. And I got nothing! They looked down on us, called us Empties, and left us as fodder for those twisted frags at the Institute. We had nothing-no skills, no power, and no hope."

"And Megatron gave you that hope?"

"Yeah, but he wasn't the first." Deadlock's tone became somber as he thought of memories he thought he had long forgotten. "There was another mech like me, an Empty. His name was Gasket, but he wasn't like the rest of us. He wanted a better life, any way he could get it. And if the system wouldn't give him what he needed, he'd take it. And I was right there with him." He shook his head, all fight leaving his body. "We didn't steal much, only what we needed to keep ourselves online-energon, medical equipment, stuff like that-but we didn't need to take more. Thanks to Gasket, we had all that we needed and more. He gave all of us hope."

Then he scowled. "And it was all taken away. Eventually, we were tracked by an Elite Guard security patrol-big mechs with bigger guns and armor. They grabbed a few Empties off the street-they didn't know who the thieves were, so why bother with an investigation when any scapegoat would do? We saw them roughing up one of the others, cuffed them and tossed them away. Gasket tried to calm things down, but they didn't listen. They pushed him around, one thing led to another and Gasket was…"

Wing didn't say anything. The implications were obvious.

Deadlock didn't know why he was saying all this, but he didn't stop. He never shared this with anyone before now, but he couldn't bring himself to stop talking. He needed to let it out, to let someone know how much suffering they went through behind the scenes.

"When that happened, I couldn't control myself. I went berserk. Charge them, grabbed one of their guns and unleashed all the pent up fury that I had festering inside me. When I came to, all those bastard Guardsmen were dead. That would've been it, had one of the mechs not have his radio-link on. Police were on me in a biopulse and I went into hiding. It was Nightshade who found me. She saved me from an Iaconian patrol unit and trained me, put me to good use. Eventually I met Megatron himself and he gave me a name to use for the new me-Deadlock. Megatron never wanted a war, he wanted a safer, better, fairer Cybertron." Ruby eyes lock onto gold. "And you can't tell me he never wanted anything else."

Wing was silent as he gazed into Deadlock's hardened eyes, and broke their standoff with a sigh. "We're done for the day."

"We're done?"

"You've been through a lot already, Deadlock. I think you deserve the rest." Wing patted him on the shoulder and walked away. "Remember Deadlock, here in this dojo, we don't just train bots physically but mentally as well. And the hardest wounds to deal with are those that can't be touched."

XXXXXX

Deadlock spent the next hour wandering the compound, doing some exploring while also avoiding the other warriors who lived there. He rarely spent his time other than getting his ass handed to him by Wing or brooding in his room reading old cybertronian classical stories (the place had an astoundingly large database of ancient folktales and historical datatracks). His reputation as an Autobot killer hadn't made him any friends, and he didn't want any. Not his fault they were jealous of his superior skills.

Aside from the frosty glares, he had to admit that the dojo was actually a nice place to look at. The serenity of the place made it rather peaceful and a nice change of pace from the noisy cacophony of daily brawls, gunfire and shouting usually present in Decepticon ships. Turmoil liked to keep a nice and tidy ship, but apparently that didn't mean shutting everyone up when it was time for lights out.

Still, the tranquility didn't hide the fact that he was still essentially a prisoner in this cave, with cyborg slavers hunting him down on the surface. Sparring with Wing generally improved his hand to hand skills, but their talks made his mind a jumbled mess. He was feeling emotions he had long since buried a long time ago, and he didn't like that. He buried those feelings for a reason…they hurt.

He'd be angrier at telling his past to some stranger…except Wing wasn't a total stranger anymore. Daily beatings aside, he actually got used to chatting with the mech during their sessions.

As he passed by the dojo's forge, he heard the loud echoing sound of a hammer hitting superheated metal inside. Curious, he looked inside (he never actually been inside the dojo before. He wasn't looking forward to pissing off some guy with tons of red hot metal at his disposal) and saw Yoketron working at one of the furnaces. He was hammering a heated piece of metal into the shape of a blade. Deadlock stepped inside the forge for a closer look, but grimaced at the stifling heat that immediately met his face.

"Can I help you with something, young one?" Yoketron asked, not taking his eyes off his work.

"Sorry," Deadlock said, wondering why he was apologizing. "I just wanted to see what you were doing. What exactly are you doing for that matter?"

"Making a sword. What else?" Yoketron hammered away at the thin blade that was still hot and moldable. He would continue to lightly pound away at the middle of the blade before folding the metal over and repeating the process again.

"Odd way to make a sword. You're just breaking it over and over again." Deadlock said.

"This is how we make our weapons here. Our blades must be thin enough to cut through steel like paper, but strong enough to withstand the strike with another sword without chipping or deforming." Yoketron said. "It is a lengthy process that requires utmost concentration and must be done with great care." He glanced at Deadlock. "Would you like to try it?"

Deadlock blinked. "Really?"

Yoketron smiled and patted the spot next to him. "Wes, I welcome the company."

Deadlock cautiously sat next to the old master and Yoketron began teaching him the basics of sword making. It involved a lot of repetition, heating the metal to a certain degree, folding it, them hammering it into a flat shape before folding it again and doing the process over. Each layer was compressed to make the blade stronger but also thinner to a degree, and needed to be hammered with a certain amount of force to avoid being shattered or warped. Deadlock had broken two blades already because he was hammering a little too hard and the hot metal was too soft. But on his third attempt, he slowly got the hang of it as Yoketron guided him through the motions.

"This is kind of easy when I'm not smacking away at it like a Heavy." Deadlock said.

"Excessive force is never the answer unless necessary. Sometimes, a situation requires a calm, steady mind and a sturdy hand, young one." Yoketron said.

Deadlock gave Yoketron a look. "What is it with you? Why don't you just call me by my name?"

"I have my reasons, young one. As far as I'm aware, I'm allowed them." Yoketron smiled. "Now I have a question for you. Why does it matter that I call you by that name?"

"Because it's a mark of honor. Megatron gave it to me when he personally accepted me into the Decepticons." Deadlock answered. "It's all I have left of those days; back when we were fighting for Cybertron's future."

"As opposed to now?"

Deadlock didn't argue the unspoken accusation. His earlier conversation had shown how far from their goals the Decepticons were. "I just wanted the madness to end." He said quietly, pouring water over the blade to cool it. "I'm…tired, Master. All the fighting, the death, the backstabbing. Peace and equality, that's all I wanted. Nothing more."

The old master looked at the young mech with an unreadable expression. "I do believe you want this war to end. I only think you're going about it the wrong way." He took both swords and dunked them into the water to cool. "Tell me, before you were called Deadlock, what were you called?"

Deadlock shook his head. "What does it matter? I wasn't anything then."

"You were clearly someone to your old friend Gasket, and he clearly meant something to you if you were willing to kill three mechs to avenge him. Everything that you were before you were Deadlock you are now, only with different trappings. I think the name you had at birth is as important as the name you have now."

"It was a simple name. A million bots probably had it before me."

"But only one mech with that name was Gasket's friend."

He could see that he wasn't going to win this argument. They could go back and forth until one of them was burnt out. So he did the sane thing; he relented. "Drift. My name is Drift."

Yoketron smiled. "Your name is Drift. And now that I understand you, I find it easier to do this."

He stood up and walked over to the wall next to him, placing his hands atop each other in a tantric pose and began to hum. Deadlock quietly approached him as a section of the wall split apart to reveal a rack of melee weapons ranging from shuriken to short swords to broad swords. Once it was open, Yoketron retrieved two short swords and held them out to his student.

"You're giving me swords?" Deadlock asked confused.

"A sword is not nearly as clumsy as a blaster or projectile weapon, and in the hands of a skilled master, it is the most versatile of all armaments."

"But you're giving them to me. What's stopping me from just running you through the instant I get them?"

"What stopped you from blasting me when you first came here?"

Deadlock sighed. "What kind of question is that?"

"A good one," Yoketron replied. "And one I'm eager to have the answer for."

"But I didn't shoot you. I could barely even touch you. Why the hell do you want to know why I didn't scrap you?"

"Because you once said that you blame the Autobots for the condition of Cybertron at large. You blame them for your place in the lowest tier of society. They are directly responsible for the death of your friend." Yoketron pointed to the faded Autobot symbol on his chest. "Am I not an Autobot as well? Do I deserve to live more than any other Autobot, or less than any other?"

"But you aren't a soldier!"

"I train many of these soldiers and can often outfight them. How am I different from them?"

"But…" Drift slumped as he spoke his next piece. "But killing you won't bring him back, and shooting you won't give me the better world I wanted." He looked at his hands, now pristine and smooth, but had been drenched in the blood of thousands, both organic and cybertronian. "Then again, I haven't done much to make my world better, have I?"

"No, but it's never too late to start." Yoketron said. At the ex-Con's surprised look, he continued, "You have great potential for good or ill, Drift, as all of us do. How you fulfill that potential is your choice. You can choose not to take these weapons and wait here for the inevitable. You can choose to take them and kill me and wait for the inevitable. Or you can take them, learn to use them under me, and prepare for the inevitable. Even if Turmoil does come for you, is it not wise to be prepared in case he does?"

The mech considered it. Desertion in the Decepticon army was a capital offense, punishable by death. And that was if the DJD didn't come for him first the second Turmoil squeals to them. That was a fate worse than death and he wouldn't wish it on anybody. The least he could do was learn how to properly defend himself. He took the swords and held them in the light. "I've learned a thing or two when it comes to swords, but I'm no expert."

"Then prepared to be enlightened." Yoketron took out a pair of swords for himself. "You have taken your first steps into a larger world, Drift. You real transformation has only begun."

The ex-Con felt nostalgia at being called that name. It had been an eternity since he was called Drift; in a strange way, he missed it. Perhaps it was time to go back to his roots.

"All right master, show me what you've got."

XXXXXX

Drift was no stranger to fighting close combat, but he had never been in a proper sword fight before. Still, whether it was because of their past conversations or simply to teach him a lesson, he had a feeling that Wing was going easy on him. But he wasn't going to complain. The guy was murder in a fight.

"In the hands of a master, the word is the most versatile of weapons!"

Wing's blades struck against Drift's, counterattacks effectively blocked with a minimum of movement and effort.

"Rifles and blasters, while useful, are clumsy and inefficient! Great care must be taken with them under most circumstances, lest they be irreparably damaged. Swords are another matter! They strike with precision, do not require power sources or ammunition, and are capable of doing more than taking lives!"

Drift managed to hold the sword assault at bay briefly, but not without effort. "But swords can still be broken!"

He pushed back and tried to do a feint, but Wing's quick reactions had him back on the defensive again. "Yes, but it's far harder to break a sword than it is a gun or other weapons. And given proper resources, a sword can be repaired. Components for a gun are not so easily obtained, but a good smithy is another matter, even among our kind! And the wisest sword masters are able to repair their own weapons!"

Using his swords to propel himself into the air, Wing jumped over Drift's kick and slammed his knee into his face. Drift stumbled back but recovered quickly. "But you need to get close in order to use them. What good will a sword do against someone with a gun or a cannon at a distance?"

"By itself? Nothing. But the use of a sword requires discipline and calmness of mind. With those, so many worlds and possibilities are opened." Wing replied.

Yoketron, who was observing the match, clapped his hands and the two mechs relaxed their stances. Yoketron smiled and went to address his two students. "You are correct in your self-assessment, Drift-you are no expert. Your movements are quick and strong, but they are sloppy and wild and inefficient. Given time they will be better, but you still have much to learn."

"Good thing I have a teacher then." Drift quipped. He looked at the wall and saw a large sword on the weapons rack. It was nearly a foot long, with odd glyphs along the length of the blade and a dark blue gem on the cross-guard." What's that sword? It looks fancier than the others."

"That's because it's special." Yoketron said as he looked at the sword. "That sword is believed to have been wielded by a member of the Knights of Cybertron, who served as soldiers of the Thirteen Primes. This is the only original sword, the others you see wielded by the Crystal City Knights are replicas fashioned in the likeness of this one."

"Legend has it, these swords were built to be strong enough to generate cosmic energy and potentially cut through any substance, even cybermatter." Wing explained. "But these abilities come at a terrible price."

Drift snorted, of course there was a catch. It wouldn't be a super powerful sword without warnings to chase away potential buyers. "What, does it burn out your Spark if you swing it once?"

Yoketron laughed. "No, it generates its own power. But the price is still great; the gem inside creates a great deal of feedback the longer the sword is in use. It is safe to use it for a second or two, but any longer and you risk terrible injury. More than that and you risk damage to your hands and neuronet. Even master swordsmen rarely use it unless absolutely necessary."

"Right, no touching the fancy sword. Got it." Drift gave the weapon a wary look. "But why keep it if it can kill you?"

"Because with responsible use, it won't. Energon flows through all cybertronian life, but it is highly explosive and thus incredibly dangerous. Without it we could die, but it could still destroy us if used in an unsafe manner." Yoketron elaborated. "It's the same for many other things, Drift. With discipline and clear thinking, one can understand and master anything, including themselves."

Drift watched as Yoketron closed the storage unit, a question came to mind. "Is that why you started this stupid challenge with me? To convince me that Megatron isn't worth it?"

"All we are telling you is that you have a choice. What choice you make is up to you." Wing said. He patted Drift's shoulder. "Come on, let's get something to drink-"

Grand Slam appeared in the doorway, his heavy footsteps causing a light rumble each time his foot hit the ground. "Sorry for the interruption, master, but Dai Atlas wants to see Wing at the command center…with the Decepticon."

Drift sighed, not wanting to deal with that pretentious blowhard. Wing gave him a sympathetic smile. "Come on, we better go see what he wants."

XXXXXX

The command center was in the heart of the citadel in New Crystal City; everything from energy management to communications was monitored here, and it was here that the first signs of danger would be detected if any threat approached the city.

Dai Atlas stood in front of a huge monitor showing a message written in an odd language unfamiliar to them. Drift and Wing entered the room, where the former was met with wary, suspicious glares and hushed whispers. Drift paid them no mind (even though he was tempted to flip them off just to screw with them) and focused on the large mech looming over him.

"What's the situation?" Wing asked.

"We're picking up a widespread transmission." Axe, a bulky purple mech just a few inches taller than Dai Atlas said. "Not exactly sure where it's from."

"And it's in code." Dai Atlas grumbled.

Wing frowned. "Any idea what it is, Axe?"

"No." Axe sighed.

"We were of the opinion you could help." Dai Atlas said before turning to Drift. "What say you, Decepticon?"

"Me? No…" Drift shook his head, his expression betraying none of the inner turmoil that rose within him. "I've got no idea what it says."

XXXXXX

It was like waking up from a dream. Drift was so caught up training with Yoketron and Wing that he forgot about the outside world, and the troubles that came with it. A world that wanted him dead and a legacy that was beginning to haunt him.

He lied. He could read the message. It was written in Decepticon script, one of two languages that spawned in the later years following the Exodus as s a way to avoid the Autobots learning of their operations and stealing vital intel. The Circle of Light had no idea of this, having left Cybertron before it was created. It was laughable at how vulnerable they were in matters outside of fighting.

He waited until night fell to make his move. When he was sure that most of the people in the dojo were sleeping, he snuck out of his room and stealthily traversed the compound, leaving the grounds and sneaking through the city's side streets and back alleys to reach the outer perimeter of the city. Few bots resided there because that was where the major power stations were located, providing energy to the entire city.

"I must be out of my mind." Drift grumbled and made his way up the carved stone staircase leading to the only entrance to the cavern. The only exit to the city that Yoketron spoke about and one Drift managed to sneak out of Grand Slam after getting the big guy drunk earlier.

From the ledge the stairs were connected to, Drift walked through a tunnel leading upwards to a cave. He felt cold air hit his face and he followed the breeze until he was outside once again. He took a deep breath and transformed to his alt mode, driving towards his destination.

Drift drove about a mile from the hidden city's location before he stopped and transformed back upon reaching the coordinates the message referred to. But he ran into an unwelcome surprise.

"You look different Decepticon. Upgrades?"

Braid and his Fareen squad of warriors stood before Drift. Seeing the ex-Con tense up for a battle, Braid held up his hands in a universal sign of non-aggression. "I'm glad you felt you could trust us. I imagine you mustn't have felt very safe after our last meeting."

"So what now? You lure me out to slag me?"

"No harm will come to you," Braid promised. "As I intoned in the message, I have struck a lucrative deal involving your escape from this planet."

"How did you do that?" Drift demanded. "How did you use Decepticon encoding? Where did you learn it?"

"Oh I didn't learn it per se. it just seems that this planet is becoming very popular with your kind." Braid chuckled and nodded his head towards his 'guest'. Drift gasped as another well-known Decepticon stepped forward.

"Lockdown!"

"Deadlock," Lockdown said in a rumbling voice. "Megatron is…displeased."

Lockdown was an infamous Decepticon bounty hunter who spends more time taking jobs from Cybertronians and organics than actually fighting in the war. He was a sleek black mech with green highlights along his body and a large, curved hook in place of his right hand. He didn't look very strong, but years of hunting and fighting had honed his battle skills and his name was almost as feared as the DJD.

Braid waved Lockdown away as he addressed Drift. "But first we have a deal, Lockdown. This Decepticon will give me the location of his new friends…or he will never leave this planet alive!"


	4. Adrift part 3

Chapter 3-Adrift part 3

The walk back to the city felt painfully longer than before. The desert around him seemed vast and everything felt out of reach. Drift increased his speed to return to civilization, realizing how lonely he felt. It was painful, he realized, being alone. Sure, he wasn't exactly the easiest guy to be around, but he still had a squadron under his command to at least somewhat fill that void. But out here, his rank meant nothing. Out here, he was Drift, an exiled Decepticon with no idea on what to do with his life.

He went back the way he came, going back into the cave and through the tunnel, reemerging into the cavern on the outskirts of the city. After spending so long in this city, he realized that he never knew how good it felt to not fight for his life for once; no backstabbing, no assassination plots, just a city of people who didn't want to be caught up in an endless war. It wasn't a cowardly thing to wish for, even though Drift still considered the Circle to be a bunch of fools.

He stood there on the cliff overlooking the city for who knows how long before he heard Wing calling his name.

"Drift!" Wing drove up to him and transformed, looking incredibly worried. "Where have you been?"

"I was out on a walk." Drift answered calmly.

"A walk? Damn it, I can't believe you'd sneak but like that." Wing sighed.

"I'm a Decepticon remember?"

Wing shook his head in dismay. "I thought you'd realize that going out there will get you killed. I thought we…I thought you wouldn't run."

Drift remained silent.

"It was that message wasn't it?"

Drift looked at his hands, clean and pristine, but stank of the energon and remains of his past kills. The fact that it bothered him now meant that he was no longer the mech he was in the past as Deadlock. "You stood against the Knight's laws. You're one of them, but you're different." He shook his head. "Why do you do it?" why do you break their rules?"

"I told you when we first met, helping another is the highest cause one can aspire to." Wing replied. "I do it because I think it's right."

Drift closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He pushed past Wing and switched forms, driving down the stairs and into the city, leaving a confused Wing behind. He sped down the streets, not stopping for anything until he reached the meeting hall for the Circle Knights. He reverted to robot mode halfway up the steps and pushed the doors to the meeting chamber open, startling the assembled council.

"You're in danger! All of you!" He yelled to the knights. He didn't pause to gauge their reactions as he continued. "There's an army of slavers out here preparing for war, and very soon they'll be on your doorstep."

"What?" Axe breathed.

"How could you possibly know that?" Asked Beta, another female knight.

Drift looked down. "Because I just made a deal with them to sell you out for my freedom."

XXXXXX

" _I understand you are a great Decepticon warrior. Feared. Respected. Clearly you are a cunning warrior and yet you find yourself alone and stranded here." Braid said._

 _Drift stood with the Fareen and Lockdown in the prison block of Braid's base, where the slavers kept their "merchandise". No guards were present, obviously because neither criminal saw him as an immediate threat that they couldn't handle themselves._

" _Megatron has heard of your attempt to seize power from Turmoil, Deadlock. He knows Turmoil is seeking your head and has dispatched me personally to bring you in…unharmed." Lockdown said. "You're worth too much to our cause to lose you over a spat."_

" _You have friends in high places." Braid chuckled._

" _And we're supposed to trust you and your deal?" Drift asked. "What's to say you won't kill us anyway?"_

" _You wound me. My kind, like yours, has existed for so many years. We too felt the sting of endless war." Braid said. "As the dust settled, what was left was a stronger, more determined species with one mission…immortality. We combed the galaxy in search of lifeforms we can use. We adapt ourselves and grow with each new discovery. You might call them upgrades."_

 _He reached into one of the cells and plucked an unfortunate alien from within. "Now we shift more and more toward the technological. Throughout the years, we've been paying attention, watching. Your kind has always been there, always surviving, never dying. I want what you have." He tossed the alien to one of his brutes, who swallowed the poor soul in one gulp without even chewing. "I don't need you. Your "heroic" friends will do. They're clearly not Decepticons, so you shouldn't mind."_

 _Braid pointed at Drift's body. "You've been repaired-that takes parts, equipment. There's more than the one who saved you. How many?"_

" _They're hidden," Drift looked away. "Well defended."_

" _I have an army."_

" _An all-out attack would be suicide."_

" _Then it's deceit." Lockdown, who was silent for the moment, spoke up. "Go to them, tell them whatever you need and lead them into an ambush."_

" _Give them to me, and you'll have your freedom." Braid promised. "What do you say?"_

 _Drift opened his eyes. "Agreed."_

 _Braid smiled and walked away. "You have one day."_

 _Lockdown glanced at Drift. "Deadlock, this planet, these creatures, they're of no concern to us. Shockwave clearly has faith in you. Let's hope it's not misplaced."_

XXXXXX

"You did what?!" Dai Atlas roared. Axe jumped from his seat and stomped toward Drift, drawing his sword.

"I said I would do it. Not that I would." Drift said. "But I had to make them think that I would."

Axe pointed his sword at Drift's face. "Confusing statements aren't in your best interest right now."

"The message you received. It was in Decepticon script and meant for me." Drift explained. "A Decepticon bounty hunter named Lockdown tracked me to this planet. He made a deal with the slavers and they made a deal with me. I had to agree to it, there was nothing else I could do."

Axe glared at him before sheathing his sword. Drift relaxed his shoulders a bit and continued. "They've given me one solar cycle to send them your location and lead you into an ambush."

"And what would you have us do?" Dai Atlas growled.

"Prepare for battle, Dai Atlas. Go to war. They don't how many we have here-"

Dai Atlas backhanded Drift, knocking him to the floor. He snarled at the Ex-Decepticon and called his guards. "Lock him up!"

"That won't change anything." Drift grunted, wiping energon from his split lip. He stood up and faced Dai Atlas, who was seconds away from mangling him. "I know I'm a Decepticon. I know you hate me, but now I'm on your side."

"Of course you are. Right up until you lead into an ambush!"

One of the other Knights, a white and gold femme named Beta, stepped into the main floor. "Why?"

"Why what?" Drift replied.

"Why are you on our side?"

Drift glanced at the doorway and saw Wing, who was smiling at him. The next words Drift spoke had lifted the weight from his shoulders that he didn't realize was even there. "Because I've found something worth fighting for. Because it's the right thing to do." He said passionately and looked around at the other knights joined around him. "Because I want what you have. It's what I've always wanted. And if we don't do something, they're going to take it all away."

He turned to his audience. "They know you're here now. The number-one reason you've never been found is because no one has been looking. Before long, they'll find this place. They'll find it and they'll tear it apart."

He looked at Axe. "Surely you have weapons."

"We do," Axe nodded. "In the vault."

"This is all because of you!" Dai Atlas shouted, his voice causing the room to shake. "This is your fault!"

"I know that. I know. But I'm trying to fix this. I'm trying to make it right." Drift replied.

"By going to war again." Dai Atlas spat. "Doesn't your kind think of anything else?"

"I'm trying to save you." Drift said.

"Like you saved Cybertron?"

That retort stopped Drift short, but Axe brought the conversation back on track. "Do you think they have the means to find us?"

"Absolutely."

Dai Atlas snorted. "Impossible."

"It's not."

"It is. We are completely hidden down here. They will never find us." Dai Atlas glared heatedly at Axe and the other Circle Knights. "I alone have access to the vault. I along can give the command for war and I will not! We can't do anything that will reveal our presence here. This city and its people must remain a secret!"

"Dai Atlas, they will find us. Surely you can see that." Wing pleaded.

Dai Atlas turned his back on them. "Our civilization is untouched by war. All of Cybertron's culture is preserved here. I will not jeopardize that."

"We don't have to," Wing countered. He pointed to Drift. "They know something is out here, but they're not sure what. They only saw me. Drift can send them a false location. One that leads them towards where I'm hiding. Somewhere away from the city."

"You're suggesting giving your own life for Crystal City?" Beta questioned.

"Yes."

"It won't work." Drift said. "They know you're not alone. They saw I'd been rebuilt. I was careful not to mention the city, but they know there's more than one."

"Then let there be more than one."

Wing turned to see Axe standing by him. The big mech smiled down at him, while Dai Atlas looked appalled.

"What are you doing?" Dai Atlas yelled.

"What must be done." Axe replied. "I will go with Wing. I will fight."

"You will die."

"So the city may live."

Beth nodded. "We will go."

"Maybe we can construct a derelict ship to make it appear we have crashed here. We won't have to go far once they find it. They won't look anywhere else." Drift said.

"This is madness." Dai Atlas growled. "You will die. All of you!"

"You said it yourself; we are the guardians of Cybertron's culture. If that cannot be sacrificed, then we must." Wing told him.

Seeing that he was on the losing side of the argument, Dai Atlas spun around and walked towards the door. Drift sighed and stopped him.

"Why are you doing this? With a fully armed city of Cybertronians behind us, we could overcome the slavers and put an end to their threat."

"Is that what it means to be a Cybertronian? War?" Dai Atlas scowled. His tone lacked the fire it had just seconds ago, and now he sounded tired…defeated.

"It's not as though Cybertron hasn't seen war before. Our civil war is one thing. I can see why you made the choice you did, but this is different."

"It's all the same."

Drift gave a frustrated growl. "I don't understand. Wing told me your history. You're a seasoned veteran, the oldest of the Knights of the Circle of Light. You've fought in wars before, many wars. How could you not…" Drift's eyes narrowed as he came to a startling conclusion. "Is that it? All those wars? You've fought in so many battles, against so many enemies. You can't stand to face it again, can you?"

He stepped around Atlas to look him in the face. "You'd rather risk the lives of everyone in this city because you're scared? What has all that fighting done to you, Dai Atlas? Made you a coward?"

"Maybe…but I'll take that over the initiative…" He replied. "Look what it did to you."

XXXXXX

Back in the dojo, Drift stood with Yoketron as the warriors picked their choice of melee weapons from the master's armor, which was rather large. Yoketron collected a lot of weapons over the years as a bit of a hobby of his and had done an excellent job in taking care of them.

"Thank you for allowing us access to your weapons, master." Drift bowed his head. Yoketron smiled.

"It's no problem, Drift. I'd do anything to help my students and the people of this city." Yoketron looked Drift over. "You look different."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yes, as if you've been through a transformation of your own."

Drift hummed. "Yeah, I do feel…lighter in a sense."

"A heavy Spark is a large burden. Hopefully you can fully shed the weight of your terrible past and move forward."

"Drift!" Wing jogged over to them. "We need you to send the false coordinates. We've found something that we can use as a crashed ship. It won't take long to get it into position, then we'll be ready to go."

"Good, we can finally end this." Drift said.

Wing stared at Drift. "You know…you don't need to fight with us. You could say here. Once this is over, you'll be safe."

"No, this is my fault. I need to do this." He said strongly. This was the first step on his road to a new life and he needed to take it.

Well then, once you send those coordinates, you need to come with me." Wing smirked. "If you're with us, you better look the part."

XXXXXX

The hangar doors slid open under the dirt and sand and the elevator lift rose up, carrying a cybertronian transport ship that looked like it hadn't seen the light of day in ages. Axe stood outside, hidden as he acted as lookout, and he could see a small army of Fareen slavers marching into the canyon with Braid and Lockdown in the lead. Axe signaled the aerial alt mode mechs to return to the ship. Inside the ship, every able bodied warrior was ready and waiting for the big battle ahead.

"They're on their way as planned." Axe reported. "Just as we thought, they're taking the canyon, so we won't have to worry about being swarmed."

"Good." Wing nodded. "Now all we have to do is wait for our new member."

"He's already here."

Drift stepped into the light, his frame completely reformatted from the sleek form he once had into a stronger frame rebuilt with the New Crystal City aesthetic. On his waist were the two swords that Yoketron had given him the day before.

"You ready, Drift?" Wing asked, brandishing his own swords. "You must have gone into battle like this countless times."

Drift looked at the warriors before him. Mechs and femmes making a stand, sacrificing themselves to save the lives of thousands. A far cry from the band of backstabbing, murderous marauders he usually charged into battle with. Has he gone into battle like this before? No. His previous campaigns were nothing like this before. This was something special.

Drift took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."

XXXXXX

The small group of knights and martial artists stood outside the decoy ship waiting for the Fareen slavers to arrive. Though Drift honestly felt nervous about the coming battle, he saw that some of the other warriors were noticeably revved up and ready to fight. It had been a long time since any of them had fought a serious battle like this, and for such a noble cause at that. The thrill, the anticipation, the tense atmosphere before a big battle. It was all prevalent in the air, and once the two armies saw each other, that energy will spark and ignite the fire that will rage violently.

"This will be a good death." Axe breathed.

"The ruse is complete. For all our enemy knows, we're all there is." Wing said. "With our passing, the secret of New Crystal City will be protected."

Drift looked at their weapons and saw that no one was carrying any guns. "Just swords then?"

"We knights are forbidden from carrying anything else."

"And those Great Swords do more damage to us than them." Drift grumbled.

Wing smirked. "We'll only draw a great sword in times of extreme need."

"And what do you call this?"

"This?" Axe laughed. "I call this a warm-up!"

The first of the slavers exited the canyon into the open plains and noticed the assembled warriors. The snake-like aliens gave a collective roar as they charged at their foes, shooting laser blasts from their weaponized staves and blasters. The knights quickly met their charge with their own and the two armies clashed amidst the desert, shooting and slashing at each other in a chaotic symphony. Everyone had someone to fight…except Drift.

Drift was in the thick of the battle, blasts and missiles flying over his head, an explosion nearly knocking him off his feet. Despite being within shooting distance of the Fareen, none of them made any moves to attack him.

"They'll have none of you, Drift." Axe said, spinning his battle axe over his head before spinning in a circle and cleaving five slavers in two with a single swing of his mighty weapon. "If you plan on betraying us, now's the time."

Drift frowned at that and rushed forward, sprinting past two Fareen and cutting open their chests with his swords in a burst of purple blood that stained the rocky ground. He beheaded another before snatching his gun and shooting another in the face.

"That's the way, lad!" Axe cheered.

XXXXXX

In his personal study, Dai Atlas stood over the holo-display, debating on whether he should turn it on as he stared at the black screen. He called them fools for leaving to fight, risking their lives when they could just hide, but deep down he knew they were right. They were just doing what the Circle of Light was founded for; preserving the remnants of Cybertron's culture.

He was a warrior who fought a thousand battles, either against invaders or fellow Cybertronians who fought to kill prey on the weak. He fought for noble causes, found the Circle on the very foundations upheld by the legendary Knights of Cybertron who served the mythical Thirteen. Dai Atlas battled marauders, barbarians, Quintessons…his old friend Star Saber. Fighting was all he knew, so of course it would take a toll on his mind.

It was because of these wars that Dai Atlas lost countless friends and comrades, watched them cut down before his eyes, tortured, destroyed, maimed beyond recognition…he couldn't take it anymore. His withdrawl from the combat theater had defanged him; he stood by as the senate and Functionists tore Cybertron apart with their greed and megalomania and witnessed as the Decepticons tore them apart in the name of their "revolution". He once reprimanded the newly christened Optimus Prime for inheriting a legacy that was better off dead and not doing what he thought was logical at the time-run. He ran back then during the Exodus, and he was running right now. He ran and hid from the truth before and it cost him Cybertron, and now everything he built, sacrificed for, was at stake once again.

"How many wars? How many battles?" He whispered. He gritted his teeth. "I can't stand it! Not anymore…"

He looked at the display and pressed the button, showing a hologram of the battle going on up on the surface.

XXXXXX

The battle in the plains was in full swing and the casualties were piling up on both sides, though it seemed the knights were winning by a small margin. Drift and Wing were fighting together in the heart of the chaos, sprinting across the battlefield and cutting down their foes with a practiced ease that few warriors could display at once. They never remained in one place for too long, always on the move to make hard targets for the shooters.

Drift leapt over a brute that tried to grab him and stabbed his sword into his skull, pushing off the corpse and beheading a Fareen with a laser staff that tried to come at him from behind. He noticed a warrior with a gattling gun open fire on him and lifted the dead brute over his body to act as a grotesque shield from the artillery fire. He waited until the slaver had to reload and threw the body at the slaver to distract him before lunging at the poor bastard and slicing him in half.

"Keep your rhythm, Drift!" Win instructed. "Head up, eyes on your next opponent, not your last."

Wing leapt into the air and spun around, beheading multiple slavers with his swords before landing on his heels. In the same movement, he ducked under a sudden sword strike from behind and kicked his assailant in the face before flipping over a staff wielder and running them both through.

From his perch atop a cliff Braid sneered at the sorry sight before him. He knew it was too good to be true! This is what he got for trusting a cybertronian! The knights were slowly tearing apart his forces, even though his men had managed to shoot down some of the flyers that were giving them some grief. His angered gaze turned to Wing, who was doing the most damage against the heavy hitters that kept many of the knights on the defensive.

'That one is going to be a problem.' Braid thought. He growled and drew his dual-bladed staff and leapt into the canyon.

Wing saw a shadow form over him and jumped aside as Braid landed on the ground, raising his staff. The Fareen slaver hissed, his scaly lips pulling back to reveal his large fangs.

"You!" Braid snarled.

"Me!" Wing replied.

The two charged and clashed, slashing and stabbing at each other in quick attacks that were almost too fast to see. Wing was a skilled warrior, but Braid was not clan leader for nothing. He was just as skilled with his weapon, and his lithe form allowed him some measure of agility and flexibility common for his species. Seeing that his friend was having trouble with Braid, Drift ran to help Wing, but a plasma blast to his leg made him stumble.

"He's the least of your concerns." Lockdown said. "You betrayed your kind. Give men one reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

Drift's response was to fire his two blasters at the bounty hunter's head, but Lockdown ducked under the twin blasts with surprising speed, lunging at Drift and swiping his hook at Drift's hands, knocking the guns from his grip.

"You're a Decepticon! What could they possibly have offered you to make you turn on us?" Lockdown yelled. He slashed his hook at Drift, but the ex-Con caught his arm and threw him into the ground. Lockdown rolled away before his face could be caved in by Drift's foot.

"What I've always wanted, the promise of a better Cybertron." Drift said. "Or have you forgotten why we started all of this in the first place?"

Lockdown snorted. "Hmph, idealists. You'll be the death of us all."

Lockdown brandished his hook and charged at Drift. Drift ran to meet his advance, but a tray missile hit the ground between them and blasted them apart. Drift lost sight of Lockdown behind a wall of flames and smoke as he hit the ground face first, his audio receptors briefly filled with static from the explosion.

"Ahh," He groaned and spat out a glob of energon as he pushed himself off the ground. "W-Wing…"

He saw his friend still fighting Braid, but he was wounded. Wing was favoring his right arm and his matching leg was leaking energon from a deep cut on his thigh. He lost one sword, and he was defending himself from Braid's increasingly powerful attacks with his remaining one. He blocked a strike from Braid's staff and charged forward into his guard to slash at his head. Braid ducked under the sword and slammed his knee into Wing's torso. Kicking Wing in the face, Braid spun around and stabbed his staff into Wing's chest, much to Drift's horror.

"No!"

XXXXXX

"No!"

Dai Atlas slammed his fist into the console and fell to his knees. Another friend lost to the fighting and all he did was stand there and watch. It brought back memories he spent so long repressing and he couldn't take it anymore. He warned him, told him that he would die. And yet he still went galavanting off with that Decepticon! Why did he do this?

"Damn you, Wing, why didn't you listen to me?!" Dai Atlas wailed.

"Because he knew that death would be preferable to seeing his home be destroyed by an easily preventable disaster."

Dai Atlas looked up and saw Yoketron standing in the doorway. "Master?"

"Wing knew that he could die, but he still went, because that's what he vowed to do upon joining the Circle. He vowed to defend his home, his values and the innocent even at the cost of his own life. He knew the risks, but he knew his duty as well." Yoketron said, stepping up to the grief stricken leader. "It's the same vow you once took upon forming the group."

"This could've been prevented if that damn Con died back on the surface! It's his fault all of this is happening!" Dai Atlas screamed. "None of this would've happened if Wing hadn't taken him in!"

"I have also granted Drift sanctuary. Am I to blame as well? If so, then you may kill me right now." Yoketron said sternly. "Wing spent time with Drift because he knew that Drift was lost. Needed guidance to regain his sense of purpose. Something that you have lost as well. Look and see how Drift fights to protect this city, which isn't even his home. An ex-Decepticon is doing more for this city, than its founder and leader."

"Leave me be, master." Dai Atlas groaned.

"You know what you must do, Dai Atlas. If you want to avoid losing more of your friends, then you must show that you still hold the values of the Circle of Light in high regard. If not," Yoketron turned his back on his former student. "Then you must take that sword and end your own life in shame of your dishonorable actions."

Dai Atlas watched Yoketron walk away, wincing from the sting of his harsh words. He knelt there in the darkness, silent, and looked at the battle going on above. He muttered a prayer to Primus and stood up, walking towards his sword.

XXXXXX

"Rah!"

Drift lunged at Braid and rammed into him, sending both of them into the ground. Braid kicked Drift off and spun around, the bladed point of his staff cutting into Drift's side.

"You're wounded!" Braid laughed as he dodged Drift's attacks. "Slow!"

Drift slashed and stabbed at Braid, but the Fareen moved like an eel through a net, weaving around his swords like water and landing his own share of powerful blows in return. Sparks flew as they battled, and though Drift's rage gave him strength, he was not strong enough to fight a seasoned killer like Braid.

"You think you're fare better Decepticon?" Braid taunted, grabbed Drift's arm and pulling him forward to slam a fist into his nose. "You move like he does, but you lack his finesse."

Braid twirled his staff to block another sword strike at his head and stabbed his claws into Drift's abdomen. He wasn't expecting Drift to headbutt him, and he staggered back, allowing Drift some room to breathe. He felt to the ground, clutching his wound and Braid stomped towards him, frills vibrating as he hissed angrily.

"You're mine, Decepticon." Braid growled, fangs glinting dangerously. He pointed the tip of his spear at Drift's bleeding face. "I'll slice you up along with your friend and use you for parts!"

Before he could follow through on that, the ground suddenly began to shake. The Cybertronians and Fareen stopped fighting as the tremors grew stronger. Braid stumbled back as the nearby mountain split apart and from its depths arose a vast city of gold and sapphire-New Crystal City. At the entrance to the city was Dai Atlas, his great sword in hand with an army of knights and former Autobots behind him, armed and ready for battle.

"Cybertronians!" Dai Atlas bellowed, sword raised. "For New Crystal City!"

The warriors of the Circle of Light cheered as they charged forward, firing their blasters and missiles in an all-out assault on the slavers. The Fareen were completely overwhelmed and brought to heel, if not from the wall of laser bolts and rockets, then from the airborne bots carpet bombing them. Those who survived the long range assault would have to deal with Dai Atlas's knights, and there was no competition there. It was a massacre.

"No," Braid growled, yellow eyes wide with fear and loathing. "No!"

"Braid!"

Braid saw Drift limping towards him, Wing's great sword clutched in his hand, sparks shooting from his torso wound. Braid sneered at him. "We're not done yet."

"You can hardly stand." Braid scoffed. "What can you possibly hope to do, Decepticon?"

Drift gripped the word tightly and the jewel on its hilt began to glow. He felt a link form between him and the sword, and could feeling it leeching energy from his entire being. He fought the rush of exhaustion; in his condition, weak and wounded, he only had one shot at this. One shot was all he needed.

"I'm not," Drift growled. "A Decepticon!"

Drift leapt at Braid with the last of his energy and Braid stumbled back at the unexpected burst of speed the reformed mech threw at him. He raised his staff to block Drift's sword as it came down on him, but it was a futile gesture as the blade easily sliced through his staff and dug into his shoulder, cutting through his body with ease until he was completely bisected at the torso diagonally. Braid's look of shock was the last expression he would ever have as his body, both halves, fell to the ground dead, with Drift standing over him.

XXXXXX

The battle ended in a cybertronian victory. Most of the slavers were dead, while others fled into the desert after their leader was killed. Their chances of survival were slim under these hostile conditions. Cybertronian casualties were thankfully light, but one death was one too many for the brave heroes who fought for their new home. Dai Atlas and the others collected their fallen comrades and placed their bodies side by side, with Wing being the last.

Drift stood next to Dai Atlas as the Knight Commander prayed for his friend. There was no sign of Lockdown's body, meaning that he was still alive, and would likely be back for Drift. But that was for another time, far from now.

"This could have been prevented. I was such a fool." Dai Atlas whispered. He took a deep breath and turned to his knights. "New Crystal City will no longer be hidden. We will grow. Our message of peace will spread." He looked at Drift. "I was wrong about you, Drift. You were right and I am sorry. So I must ask, will you join us?"

Dai Atlas smiled and looked at Wing. He looked peaceful in death. A tragic passing, but one that should be celebrated, for his death was not in vain. He held Wing's sword out to Dai Atlas.

"I'm honored, Dai Atlas, but I must refuse." Drift said softly. "When we first met, I promised Wing to help him free the slaves and return them to their homes. That is a promise I intend to keep."

"And then what?" Asked Axe.

"I'm not sure. I don't know where I belong anymore. Not with the Decepticons, obviously," Drift sighed. "Logic would dictate I join the Autobots, but I'm not convinced."

"Then keep this," Dai Atlas pressed Wing's sword back into his hands. "Allow it to serve as a reminder of who you are and what you achieved here. No matter what you eventually become, remember to stay true to your new path and uphold your honor. You will always be one of us. The War is far from over but each day we take one step to real peace."

Drift and Dai Atlas shook hands. "And with any luck, young knight," He continued. "Far from here, you will find peace."

At the city gates, Yoketron watched the scene with a proud smile on his face. To see a lost soul find their true path, their meaning in life, was proof that their race was not some lost cause. There was still hope in the universe, so long as there were people like Drift around to carry the torch. For their race had the capacity to change; not just their physical forms, but also their hearts and minds.

For that is what it means to be truly alive.


	5. Regeneration

Chapter 4-Regeneration

Shockwave sat in his personal study at the heart of his research facility deep underneath Cybertron's surface, where no Autobot or Decepticon dared to go after the massive influx of underworlders crawled out of the depths and massacred two battalions of Bots and Cons respectively, leaving no survivors. This was caused by the latest in a series of quakes that had been occurring more frequently over the course of the war. Shockwave had been studying these quakes in conjunction with the major battles of the war on the planet's surface and came to a conclusion-the war was killing Cybertron.

It was no secret that the growing need for resources, namely energon, was putting a serious strain on Cybertron's natural resources. Energon was rarely produced in large quantities anymore, and tectonic plates crumbled and crashed into each other, leading to devastating quakes that leveled the empty cities left behind by fleeing neutrals. But Shockwave didn't expect the war to have this much an impact on the planet.

"Why am I surprised?" Shockwave muttered, his mono-eyed head sitting on his one fist, staring blankly ahead deep in thought. "This was to be expected. It was only logical that our pilfering of Cybertron's bounty would cause planetary destabilization."

The planet was still alive in a sense, but if things kept going the way they were going, then the possibility would be a reality. In the far, or near, future, he saw a Cybertron exhausted, depleted of resources-a dead world. He told Megatron, Nightshade, Soundwave, anyone of influence of what this meant for their race as a whole. Cybertron was their primary source of reproduction, if it died, then their people were doomed, and the war would only increase the countdown to extinction. But, as he deduced, they brushed off his warnings, more concerned with continuing their war with the Autobots than the preservation of their species.

As a member of Megatron's inner circle, he had a responsibility to maintain the Decepticon war effort on his side of the planet, namely in regions such as Vos, Tarn, and the eastern Torus States of Polyhex, Uraya, and Altihex, and Shockwave did just that. But lately, his attention was geared towards more scientific pursuits. He didn't try to waste more time trying to convince Megatron and the rest of High Command about the oncoming dangers, they couldn't see past the next bullet fired, the next day of warfare against the equally blind and deaf Autobots. And while they continued this never-ending war, he delved into the secrets of his race to find a solution to the eventual problem that was threatening his people. He studied the various methods of reproduction, from forging to cold construction to the Insecticons' unique way of using raw materials to breed more of their kind. He looked into the properties of a Spark, the difference it made between mechs and femmes, Spark types, Point One Percenters, anything he could get his hands on to fill that ever present hole in his mind that needed to be filled with knowledge. The other Cons may criticize his lack of involvement in the war, but he was doing this for the greater good. Someone had to find a way to preserve their species since Vector Sigma isn't forging Sparks anymore.

The cybertronian race was always dependent on Cybertron, or more specifically Vector Sigma, for the continuation of their species and the production of energon. The planetary core created hot spots where Sparks would ignite from energy pulses from Vector Sigma, but those had long since stopped not long after the first couple of major battles of the war. Cold Construction, another method which involved using the energies of two Sparks to create another in some twisted mirror of biological reproduction, that was only good for making ready to deploy soldiers on the fly without much care for their basic education. The most viable method was budding, a process in which a cybertronian birthed a miniature laser core, which developed into a protoforms on its own. The main problem with budding was that births through that process were low, and the process couldn't be controlled. Shockwave hated how arrogance of the cybertronians as a whole due to their advancements in science, technology and unique biological composition had blinded them to the fact that their one major flaw was their inability to properly reproduce on their own without an external source. Organics, as inferior they are, had that going for them at least. Kill a thousand and fifteen thousand more pop up within a stellar cycle. Kill a thousand cybertronians one cycle and only ten are birthed within a single deca-cycle alone.

This impending crisis caused by the war only cemented how limited they were because of Cybertron. Its death, meant the death of all, and Shockwave would not have that. Which was why he was contemplating a solution to the problem.

"Shockwave."

He turned his head slightly and saw the sharp, angular form of Ashling, his fellow partner in science, waltz towards him, her toothy grin ever present on her face. "Have you found the energon I require?"

"Of course I have it, but it wasn't easy. We're short enough on raw energon as it is, and you seem willing to pilfer our stores just to satisfy that scientific fetish of yours."Ashling scolded.

Shockwave paid her no mind. "What I am doing is for the preservation of Cybertron and our species."

Ashling huffed and crossed her six arms. "Strika's talking smack about you. She calls you a coward. She questions your loyalty to the cause."

"I could care less about what she thinks of me."

"She puts your authority into question. If things continue like this, any standing you have in this army will dwindle!"

"If things continue the way they are, there will be nothing to fight over. No energon, no planet, nothing except the last scrap of land on a dead world." Shockwave fully turned to her in his seat, his yellow eye glowing in the darkness of his abode. "There is only one cause I follow, Ashling, and that's logic. Logic dictates that I devote my time to discovering a way to keep Cybertron's ecosystem from failing, so that our race will not wipe itself out to extinction. Once the last reservoir of natural energon is depleted, then the final countdown will begin. So no, Ashling, I do not care what Strika says about me, for she will be dead by this war's end, along with all the others."

Ashling stared long and hard at him. He rarely spoke so much in a single breath, but Shockwave was dead set on seeing this little project of his to the end. He was serious about this.

"What do you plan on doing with the energon?"

"I plan on creating new forms of energon. Energon that can be naturally produced on other worlds." Shockwave answered. "Cybertron is the only planet within the cybertronian commonwealth that produces natural energon, and thus it's been a stark limitation of our kind. It's led to our dependence on Cybertron for survival, and now that the planet is dying, we're clamoring for our mother's milk like some primitive organic animal. What I plan to do, is make sure that we will never have to rely on Cybertron again after this disaster passes."

"It sounds mad, but you're just the type of mech for the job."She chuckled. "By the way, what's the name of this project, if it's okay to ask?"

Shockwave looked at her before turning back to his wall of monitors.

"Regenesis."

XXXXXX

Shockwave's reason for initiating the Regenesis program was done so unencumbered by emotion or sentimentality. This was done based out of the primal need to survive. He spent hours upon hours contemplating structure and form, action and reaction, cause and effect, but ironically he neglected to factor in one universal constant that was the opposite of logic, order-chaos.

Days after Ashling delivered her cargo, Shockwave was in his lab toiling over the energon crystals, infusing raw elements into the sacred minerals on the molecular level. One good thing about energon was that its base form was very malleable. You could infuse different elements into it and change its properties, and by extension, create new forms of energon with varying effects. The infamous red energon that granted hyperspeed was discovered by accident after some raw energon was left exposed to some industrial compounds in the Toraxxis Plains.

What shockwave was doing was something similar, but on a different scale. He wasn't making a new form of energon, rather he was making the conditions upon which he was going to make a new ore. Energon was a secondary result he was hoping for. What had planned was something revolutionary.

He heard the door behind him slide open and the sound of dainty feet taping across the floor towards him. Without looking up from his work, he addressed his visitor.

"I am busy, Feint." He said curtly, ignoring the sparks licking at his face as he fired a thin laser beam from his gun hand, which had its power output lowered. "What do you want?"

"I just came to tell you that the rockets are ready, jeez." Feint said. One would think it odd that a femme who was the complete opposite of Shockwave's temperament was working with him, but it was also strange that Feint could stand in attendance at Shockwave's morbid experiments without batting an optic ridge. "You ready to fire them yet?"

"I will be ready when I'm ready. Now if you'll excuse me…"

Feint sniffed, offended at his attitude, even though she should've expected this from him. Peeking over his shoulder, she saw he was working on a bright purple/magenta colored ore that emitted faint wisps of matching colored smoke, like dry ice. Even from her distance, she could feel the heat radiating off the crystal, and she was slightly intrigued by what her master concocted. This was energon, but it was more concentrated, denser. Being near such potent energon could wreak havoc on a bot's unprotected systems, but Shockwave was a mech who saw such limitations as motivation to work harder.

"Why are you still here?" Shockwave asked, still sensing her presence. His voice was bland as always, but Feint detected a minute level of annoyance.

"Just wondering what that pretty rock you were fooling around with was." Feint answered.

"…This is one of the ores I plan on sending off the planet, once I'm done with this cache." Shockwave said after a long pause. Once he was done carving it with a laser, he held up a small shard. "This is the last of my thirteen ores, Ore-13."

"Ore-13, pretty standard name, but I won't judge." Feint shrugged. "But why go through all this trouble when you won't even tell Megatron? I mean, he's going to be pissed when he hears about all the energon you technically wasted on this project."

"It won't be wasted if the results prove successful. These ores are going to revolutionize energon production for our race and negate our reliance on the resources produced by Cybertron." Shockwave tossed her the crystal. "And it would be illogical to inform Megatron of this given that he's more concerned with killing Optimus Prime that heeding my advice. And if I tried to tell Nightshade or Soundwave, they wouldn't consider it a relevant problem in the short term. Starscream couldn't think of anything else than snuffing out Megatron. It falls to me and me alone to preserve our species."

'That's the most he's said in a week.' Feint thought. "Well, I'll load up the ore. But if Megatron starts snooping around, I'm pointing him in your direction. Just for future reference in case things go south."

"Truly, your powers of foresight are astonishing." Shockwave commented dryly.

Feint fought the urge to smack him up side his hexagonal head and marched out of the lab. Logic-loving bastard.

XXXXXX

Once he was done refining the thirteen ores, Shockwave loaded them up in the warheads and fired them off Cybertron from the Sea of Rust, where he was sure the magnetic flux affecting the area would mask the rockets' ascension from any satellite probes in orbit. Thirteen rockets, each holding a specific type of energon-derived ore, were sent into the cosmos, never to be seen again. From that point, it was only a matter of waiting for the results. Thankfully, time was never an issue for a cybertronian.

The rockets were programmed with a destination from Shockwave's star charts, ancient galactic maps acquired from ancient data tracks and texts. Each planet had a specific geological profile that was right for the seeding initiative. There was also another, more personal reason Shockwave chose these planets, but that was a story for another time.

Once they reached their destinations, the rockets would fire off their warheads and the ore would fall onto the planet, where they would merge with the planet's geology over a long time span. This was so that the planets in question would become the first of many worlds altered to locally produce energon just like Cybertron. Shockwave predicted that as the war went on, and as Cybertron's condition worsened, it will become a war of dislocation and attrition. Resources will become paramount. And with Regenesis, Shockwave was assured that he would control the balance of power.

He may have worn the Decepticon badge, but ultimately, he served only one master…pure logic.

XXXXXX

Time did pass. The War for Cybertron grew more chaotic. The Decepticons had conquered about eighty-five percent of Cybertron, but the Autobots were still putting up a good fight. The war was slowing down as both sides were hard pressed for energon, and Shockwave's predictions were slowly becoming reality. Now whoever had the most resources were assured victory. Cybertron's energon supply was next to nil, and abnormal geological and weather patterns were becoming more common.

Shockwave monitored the progress of his Regenesis ore across the galaxy. Though he couldn't see to the seeds himself, he estimated the time it would take for the ore to merge with their chosen planets. The planet he sent his ore-13 warhead to was already starting to have drastic changes in its atmosphere and geography. This meant that the energon reaction had to be regulated or the planet could rip itself to shreds. And since he couldn't go there himself with Soundwave keeping a close eye on him, Shockwave was forced to choose someone he trusted to carry on his work.

"Thank you, Shockwave," The Decepticon Seeker known as Sprawl droned as he scanned his optics over the barren landscape around him. "I've always wanted to go to a hellhole for by forge day."

Sprawl was an ancient Seeker, older than most of the flyers in then brotherhood, though by how much no one was sure. It was clear that he was around when Nova Prime still ruled Cybertron, and he was possibly old back then as well. Sprawl was tall, with black and chrome armor with white highlights glowing along the length of his body. His thin white optic visor shined brightly as he studied his surroundings, which reminded him a lot of Styx in a way. Frag that place.

The planet he was sent to was in the middle of an ice age, having been mostly covered in ice and composed of one massive continent that ran from pole to pole. Shockwave's little "seed" had caused the planet to destabilize from the foreign addition to its mantle and crust. It had to be properly stabilized or else the energon would be destroyed while the planet reverted back to its primordial state. As it was, the region he was in was suffering from violent storms, stray lightning bolts hitting the ground, heavy rains and a raise in temperature was that detrimental to its native lifeforms.

"The things I do for the pursuit of knowledge and money. Maybe Feint might actually give me the time of day this time. Primus knows I need some loving attention with all the slag I do for that one eyed bastard." Sprawl grumbled.

He placed the case he was holding on the ground and popped it open. Taking a staple gun, he attached one of the glowing drills in the case and pressed the nozzle to the ground. He fired the drill into the earth, where it would burrow deep into the crust and stabilize the planet's reaction to the energon. These were global dampeners, and they would regulate the ongoing geological reaction, allowing the ore seams to settle. He repeated this process a couple more times, singing a little tune as if the world wasn't falling apart around him.

Sprawl thought this job of his was going to a walk in the park, and it would have been…had he not been followed by the last group of warriors one would garner attention from.

XXXXXX

The Grimstone was a customized Autobot shuttle that was a rare breed. Few Autobot spacecraft were built with the sole intention of acting as a siege engine. It was deep red, with forward artillery guns mounted on the sides of the bridge, a particle cannon on the underside, and four missile pods on the outer hull. It was a warship in all but name but was fast enough to lay down hell and fly to the stars in two nano-kliks. The Grimstone was named in honor of the leader of the strike team that commanded the ship, an Autobot team feared and loathed by both sides-the Dynobots.

Grimlock, leader of the Dynobots, watched main monitor intently, his blood red optic visor burning like fire. His large form took up most of the space on the bridge, and his Dynobots surrounded him at their stations. Having caught sight of Sprawl's ship leaving Cybertron, they didn't waste any time following him to this chaotic world, and were now hanging in orbit.

"Anyone have the faintest idea what he's doing down there?" Snarl asked.

"Not a clue, Snarl. The high concentration of energon in the atmosphere is masking his movements from our scanners." Swoop said from his position at the nav-center. "But it's got to be connected, right? I mean, you don't just stumble across a planet with that kind of compatible profile."

"To be honest, Swoop," Grimlock growled in his deep, rumbling voice. "All that matters is that he's alone…and vulnerable!" He cracked his knuckles. "I smell payback."

"Not so fast, Grimlock. Those energon levels are off the scale!" Slug said, scanning the energon readings on the computer. This was way too much energon for any planet to produce on its own. "We go down there without any kind of protection and we'll be in stasis lock in nano-kliks."

Grimlock glared at Slug. "Don't give me problems, Slug, just solutions." He growled. "We owe that rusting freak."

The Dynobots went quiet at the implications there. This wasn't a mission sanctioned by Optimus Prime or anyone else from high command. This was a revenge mission. Thousands of years ago, Sprawl, in an altercation with the Dynobots during the first few years of the war, had killed one of their own, Skarr, and got away before Grimlock could tear him apart. It was a chaotic battle in which the Seeker easily fought off all six Dynobots, and landed a killing blow on Skarr as a distraction to aid in his escape. Grimlock had wanted his head on a pike, but Sprawl as notoriously hard to find and pin down, as he would vanish for large amounts of time before resurfacing out of their reach.

Optimus had tried countless times to get Grimlock off this path of revenge, saying that it was only going to end badly for all parties involved. Grimlock, who was never a fan of Optimus to begin with, pretty much told Prime to piss off to his face. Optimus warned Grimlock against taking any action without official authorization, threatening to throw him and his team in Garrus-9 if he kept this up. But Grimlock didn't share this tidbit with his team. He wasn't going to just let that bastard go after killing a member of his team. One of his friends.

"Find a way to put me down on that planet. Whatever it takes." Grimlock ordered, marching back to the training room to vent some of his frustrations. "We end this…here."

XXXXXX

As he did his work, Sprawl couldn't help but notice how this world's spiral into chaos mirrored that of Cybertron. The erratic weather patterns, the unstable geological composition, and the encroaching eradication of certain species. Like the beasts that wandered near his position.

"Why hello there." Sprawl said to the herd of mammoths lumbering past them. They were large mammals covered in thick brown fur, clearly more suited for the planet's ice age conditions. They barely paid him a glance as they slowly walked by, their eyes glazed over and looking like they were on the verge of collapse.

Due to the planet's rising temperatures, some of the indigent species-equipped for extremes of cold-begin to disappear. The mammoths were a unfortunate consequence of this, as the excessive heat as well as lack of food and water was taking its toll on the massive beasts. Evolution cannot keep pace with the transitional phases of the biosphere. Lacking the wit to comprehend their predicament, let alone act, the mammoths face extinction. Just like the Cybertronians.

'It is the law of nature. We either evolve…or die.' Sprawl thought, drilling another global dampener into the ground. 'One our race's biggest flaws is our inability to change lie organics do, stuck in the same bodies, the same ways, the same fragging pattern of screwing each other over. And Megatron says we're the strongest race in the universe. Hmph, words of an idealist.'

"Tell me, furry one," Sprawl said to the lone mammoth left behind by its herd. "Do you see me as the strongest in the galaxy? Or do you see me as painfully flawed?"

The mammoth's eyes rolled back into its skull and it fell over, dead from exhaustion. Sprawl chuckled.

"Yeah, I think so too."

XXXXXX

It wasn't long before Snarl found a solution to the Dynobots' current problem, but it wasn't something that it any of his companions were expecting. Especially Grimlock.

"We what?" Grimlock said.

"We wrap ourselves in a synthetic equivalent of mammalian flesh, grown here, in the CR Chambers." Snarl explained. "We can cover our beast modes in a protective layer that will keep energon radiation from overcharging our circuits."

"No. no way. Never." Grimlock shook his head. He wasn't desperate enough to infuse organic matter into his body, which was a line even he was reluctant to cross. He wasn't a xenophobe, but the thought alone unsettled him.

Snarl shrugged. "Hey, you said whatever it takes."

"Hm," The Simfur-born commander hummed. "Shields?"

"We don't have the resonant field harmonics. Sprawl evidently does, but then…it's safe to assume he's had plenty of time to plan." Snarl said. "If you want to stop him here before he moves on, this is the only way."

Grimlock rubbed his chin for a moment before giving a weary nod. "Do it. But find something that can match our beast modes. We can't scan anything and those specimens look absolutely miserable."

"Easier said than done. They're pretty much the best this planet has to offer." Snarl waved a hand at the mammalian creatures currently living on the planet-a saber tooth tiger, a mammoth, direwolves, many too small and furry to provide the necessary protective layer for the Dynobots.

"Look again. Find me something with some…bite." Grimlock said. "Unless the plan is to make Sprawl die laughing."

Snarl did some more in depth scans and whistled as he found something. "This is…promising. By the looks of things, we have ourselves an extinct species. Reptilian. Big. And they look kind of like our beast modes. Here's I'll show you…"

Snarl brought up a holo-image of the creatures in question. The former rulers of this planet-dinosaurs. Grimlock wondered how they were so similar to their natural beast modes, but he put that to the back of his mind for now as he appraised the image of a T-rex. Large, brutal and powerful. Just like him.

Snarl glanced up at him. "Well?"

Grimlock's faceplate retracted to reveal his mouth full of sharp teeth, upturned in a grin. "Perfect!"

XXXXXX

"Finally, that's over." Sprawl sighed and stood up, stretching his spinal cord to work out the kinks. "Won't be needing this anymore."

Sprawl tossed the staple gun aside and bade goodbye to the still warm corpse of the mammoth he fondly named Steve. Taking out his recall device, he pressed the button, expecting his ship to orbital jump him into its confines in this planet's orbit. He had to do the same process on other worlds that were seeded, and he didn't want to spend any more time on this project than he needed to.

But something was wrong. He pressed the button a couple of times, but nothing happened. His ship didn't come to him, nor was he beamed back into orbit. Sprawl tensed up as he ran two possible conclusions through his mind. Either his ship had suffered some inexplicable-and catastrophic- technical malfunction…or it's no longer there. The latter seems more likely, he deduced, and that could only mean one thing.

"An attack!" Sprawl growled.

As if on cue, a ground bridge appeared and five large forms charged out of the portal. Though parts of their bodies were covered in faux skin reminiscent of some extinct creature native to this world, Sprawl recognized the faces of those he had pissed off long ago. The Dynobots.

"Oh frag." Sprawl groaned.

"Dynobots," Grimlock snarled, steam rising from between his teeth. "Beast modes!"

The Dynobots took on their altered beast modes and charged at Sprawl, attacking him in a flurry of teeth, and claws. Sprawl shifted his arm into his photon accelerator, but Grimlock grabbed his arm in his jaws. Sludge and Snarl rammed their bodies into him to knock him off balance, while Swoop clawed at his face with his talons.

The Dynobots took on a mega-cycle's worth of pent up rage against the bot who killed their friend and humiliated them. The blow to their reputation, the energon burns that took nearly a deca-cycle to heal up, the utter fragging of their well laid out plans, killing one of their own and leaving his body in a place where he couldn't even be retrieved. There were no remains to bury, not even ash remained after that energon explosion during the Exodus.

Eventually Sprawl did manage to break free, wrenching his arm free and grabbing Swoop by the neck. He pointed his cannon at Grimlock's face, but Snarl swiped his tail under his legs, sending him to the ground. Slug belched a large blast of flames in his face, causing him to stumble back. Grimlock fired two proton missiles from his mouth that exploded against his chest. Sludge deployed two neutron shock canons from his large ribs and opened fire to keep him on his knees. Swoop dived in and drop two concussion bombs on top of him. Grimlock and Sludge jumped back as Sprawl was engulfed in an plume of flames hot enough to make even Slug take a few steps back from the heat.

"Did we get him?" Swoop asked.

Before anyone could provide an answer, a large cybertronian jet flew out of the inferno, spinning in the air before transforming and landing on the ground like a meteor. Sprawl stood up slowly, flames licking his scorched, black armor, his white visor shining like a star. The Dynobots stared at him in shock, and that made his mood all the more savage.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Sprawl roared.

Using the boosters in his heels, he shot forward and grabbed Sludge by the long neck, lifting the large dinosaur off his feet and spun him around, using him as a living battering ram to knock away the other Dynobots. He slammed him into the ground and stomped on his head before firing a photon blast at Swoop to shoot him down.

"Did you think a bunch of animals like you was strong enough to beat me?!" Sprawl ranted. He jumped over to Grimlock and fired his accelerator, catching the Dynobot leader in the face and blasting him into the ground. When Snarl came to his leader's aid, he leapt up and shifted to jet mode. "I've fought Galvatron, Nova Prime and Straxus himself before you were even a thought. You're strength is nothing compared to mine!"

Sprawl fired two particle beams from the cannons in his underbelly, hit all five Dynobots at once. The explosion was strong enough to blast them apart and strip the faux flesh from their metallic hides. When the smoke cleared, Sprawl went back to robot mode and landed in front of the downed Dynobots.

"Pathetic." He spat. He rarely got angry, but these Dynobots were getting on his last nerve. "I'd kill you all right here and now, but I'll let nature claim your lives. You animals don't deserve the courtesy of an honorable death."

He heard a groan and looked up to see Grimlock slowly revert from his beast mode, energy crackling over his form. Without his protection, Grimlock was exposed to the high levels of energon in the area, and it took its toll on is systems. Stasis lock took over his body, slowing him down, but he still managed to move forward by sheer force of will. He reached out to Sprawl, wanting to crush his head in his hands, but his arm stooped inches away from Sprawl's face. Grimlock's eye grew dark and he finally went into stasis lock.

"Dumb animal. If it's any consolation, your friend went down in the same humiliating fashion as you did. Tell him I said hi in hell." Sprawl said.

He looked up at the dark sky, where he knew their ship was hiding somewhere in orbit. It'd take some effort, but he should be able to fly into orbit in his jet mode and commandeer the ship. He was no computer wiz, but knowing the Dynobots, any encryption on the command sequences could be easily broken.

Sprawl had no idea of the final mental command Grimlock sent to the Grimstone. It activated its particle beam cannon as an automatic response and targeted the designated coordinates, a nearby volcano. The ship fired its beam and gained more energy from the atmosphere as it traveled and it shot right into the mouth of a volcano. The detonation deep within its core caused the volcano to violently erupt, sending powerful aftershocks as ash, magma and burning hot rocks raining down onto the land.

"What?" Sprawl stumbled back as the ground beneath him broke apart and spouts of lava burst from the ground. He scowled and glared bloody murder at Grimlock's inert form. "You bastard!"

He made to tear out Grimlock's throat, but the ground under him broke apart and lava spurted in his face. Sprawl cried out in agony as the hot liquid burned his face and he couldn't do anything as the ground fell away. He fell into the lava put below, along with the Dynobots, and Sprawl reached for the ash covered sky as if the gods would pull him back out. He had no such assistance, and thus he vanished under the infernal ooze that seeped from the mantle of the planet.

Mother Nature has claimed its prize.

XXXXXX

 **Terra 2006. Eureka, Eria.**

"Professor Goring! Professor, you need to see this!"

Professor Goring sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as his partner Clive burst into his tent and practically dragged him out into the hot sun. The man was getting on his last nerves and if this was another piece of broken pottery from the same vase…

"Clive, I'd prefer to live a little longer without you constantly raising my blood pressure up every time you find some piece of metal in the ground." He grumbled. The other members of the dig site glanced up at him in sympathy before going back to work.

"No, look!" Clive pointed at the dig site under them. Goring was about to call him out on his crap when he took a good look at their find. "I told you this was the real deal!"

Goring couldn't refute that. Standing up from the ground like a monolith was a chrome and white hand, reaching up to the sky as if in prayer. A robotic hand. "My god…what on Terra is this?"

It wasn't from Terra, and its discovery would only spell disaster for humanity in the near future.


	6. Orphan

Chapter 5-Orphan

It was a lone; out of the way planet with two moons, second in its star system, unclaimed by Autobots and Decepticons. There was nothing special about it; no crystals of power, no significant elements, no space anomalies or advanced races with dreams of conquering the stars. Just a planet inhabited by a Neolithic, primitive race of humanoids.

But for the Autobot Valkyrie Chromia, it would come to mean so much more.

The circumstances with how she came to be on such a planet was typical for an Autobot like her. Scouting for new regions for Autobot recon teams to station their outposts. It was a dull job that everyone was forced to do, even a kick ass warrior goddess like her. Then this squad of Decepticons come out of nowhere and torches her ship, forcing her to lose them in an asteroid field and making an emergency landing on this planet.

It was a peaceful world from what she could see. Bright, sunny, and warm weather, lush forests, and wide open plains that went on for miles. With her ship little more than a glorified manmade piece of scrap doomed to waste away under nature's uncaring hand, Chromia got to work on gathering resources for what promised to be a lengthy stay on this planet until help arrived. She set up some scanning equipment in a small flower patch in the forest and was about to gather some energy for her energon synthesizer, but she had some unexpected visitors.

"Oh," Chromia tried to smile down at the small children that happened upon her. "Hello."

They were young, a girl and a boy, most likely siblings. The girl was older, with light magenta colored skin, long golden hair and wide hazel eyes, dressed in a thin dress that matched the surrounding environment and leather greaves on her feet. Her brother was just a toddler with the same features as his older sister and wore equally shabby clothes. The girl was careful to keep a hold on her brother's hand as she studied Chromia with wide eyes.

"What are you?" She asked in awe.

Chromia cleared her throat. "I'm an Autobot."

"That's your race? Autobot?"

"Yeah, er, no-I mean, I'm a Cybertronian." She explained. "Not from this place, as you can see."

The girl edged closer, cautiously running a tiny hand along the smooth metal of Chromia's foreleg. She was amazed at the Autobot, and wasn't expecting her to feel so warm.

"You are made of metal," The girl noted. "Or, are you inside?"

"Nope. This-I'm, uh, me. I'm me." Chromia cursed herself inwardly. She was never good with first contact situations, and kids weren't her strong point. That was Glyph's specialty.

The girl giggled sweetly and smiled up at her. "Are you here to hurt us?"

"No, of course not." Chromia shook her head. She tried not to think of the Decepticons hunting her somewhere in this region of space.

"I did not think so." The girl said. "You do not look as though you would hurt people."

'Kid, you have absolutely no idea.' Chromia thought.

"You are not of here, but how do you speak like I do?"

"I don't." Chromia answered. At the girl's confused look, she tried to explain her body's internal translator as simple as possible. "It's a thing my people do. We adapt to our surroundings. I can hear a language, and my brain translates them into…." She rubbed the back of her head. "Look, how about we just say "magic" and be done with it?"

The girl laughed and held out her hand. "I'm Kita."

Chromia knelt down and took Kita's hand between her larger fingers. "Chromia."

"Welcome, Chromia." Kita said.

XXXXXXX

Kita and her little brother Coll lived alone on a farm in the middle of a grassy field. Their land was nothing special, just a house with a barn and a little garden behind it. It wasn't that far from where Chromia had crashed, so the children had led her there themselves, out to a small hill that overlooked the farmland, which honestly wasn't much to look at from above.

"You're alone here?" Chromia asked.

"Just myself and Coll. We were once a family, but no longer. The sickness took our parents from us." Kita said somberly. It was hard not to remember the plague that took her mother and father, along with many of her friends. "Now we do our best to stay alive. It can be hard, but we make due."

Chromia frowned. "All by yourself?"

"We are not alone. Our people nearby, neighbors, they help when they can." Kita smiled slightly. "I'm almost fourteen seasons, so fortunately I'm allowed to take care of Coll and the farm."

Autosmot." Coll babbled, toddling over to Chromia and patting the little case she was carrying.

"Ah-ah, don't touch that." Chromia said, tapping her finger on his little head.

"He is curious. You are so different." Kita told her. "Why are you here exactly?"

"It wasn't by choice. My ship was-I crashed." She answered. "This area of space isn't safe for me."

Kita tilted her head curiously. "You are safe here."

"No, up there, the Decepticons." Chromia suddenly felt uneasy. "You don't want to meet them, they're-"

"You are safe here." Kita grabbed Chromia's hand, giving her a serene smile. "Come, the sun's going down. You can stay with us."

When she got a closer look at the farm, Chromia saw how old everything looked. With no adults around to help fix the place, and with Kita still young, there was no one around to properly manage the beautiful place. It all felt so empty with only two children here. Chromia couldn't deal with living alone with no one to talk to, with none of her friends of loved ones. The silence would've been too much to handle. For Kita and Coll, this must have been torture.

Kita put Coll down for a nap and planned to head out to the forest to get some plants for dinner. Chromia offered to give her ride there, and the girl didn't hesitate to say yes. After transforming to her alt mode (it was a treat seeing the girl's expression upon seeing her transform for the first time) the Autobot drove the entire length of the way into the forest, with Kita holding on tightly, laughing and cheering the whole way, her head tilted up to the sky and arms outstretched as if to catch the wind in her hands. She relished the feeling of the wind flowing through her hair.

"This is amazing!" Kita laughed. "I never knew I could feel this wonderful moving so fast!"

"Trust me; this isn't even close to my top speed." Chromia said, internally grinning. "But we'll worry about that when you're older, yeah?"

Chromia stopped in front of a small field near the forest entrance. Kita jumped off with her basket and ran to pick some fruit from one of the larger trees as Chromia transformed.

"I knew you were amazing, Chromia, but now you are outstanding!" Kita said brightly. "Do all of your people have this ability?"

"Yup. It's what we're known for. Changing forms at the speed of thought. And I'm not even the biggest."

Chromia couldn't help but feel lighthearted whenever Kita laughed. It was refreshing to see an organic look up at her with something other than hatred, fear and loathing for once. It reminded her of weak old protoforms learning to talk and transform for the first time. This type of innocence was welcomed by the battle hardened warrior.

Once Kita was finished gathering fruit, she had Chromia take her deeper into the forest into a small glade, where there were small patches of different plants littered throughout the area. As Kita gathered some more ingredients for later, she chatted with Chromia. Nothing important in particular, just mindless chatter. After a while, Chromia took in the beautiful scenery and breathed in deeply.

"You seem to know your way around these parts." She noted.

"I come here every day to pick some plants to use in our dinner. These herbs are very healthy and Coll needs to grow big and strong, just like his big sister." Kita said fondly. She stood in the middle of the flower patch, face raised towards the sun, letting its rays wash over her body. The unfiltered sunlight made her hair glow beautifully. "And it just feels so peaceful here. To be so close to nature like this."

Chromia had to agree with her. Cybertron was mostly a metallic planet, composed of metallic ore and a small percentage of rock near the planetary core. No plants grew there, although Cybertron had its own wonders. The Helix Forest near Harmonex, the massive cave system near Mount Novus of the Manganese Mountains, the vast, glistening expanse of the Mythril Sea. Natural wonders on a unique planet-a planet now a smoking husk.

"My mother used to take me out here when she was pregnant with Coll." Kita continued. "She said that it was important to respect nature because it provides for us. We come from the earth, and upon death, the earth takes our bodies back into it, to restart the cycle of birth and death anew."

"Smart woman." Chromia nodded.

"Do you have any parents, Chromia?"

"Me? No way girl." Chromia chuckled. "All that stuff you just said about the planet giving life? That's literally true for my people."

She knelt down to the ground and grabbed a handful of soil. "My people were born from our world. It birthed our souls, forged our bodies, and when we die, our souls-our Sparks-return to our planet's core from where it came. We don't know exactly how it works, but that's the general idea behind it."

Kita frowned at the sad look that came upon Chromia's face and stepped closer to her. "What's your world like?"

"Well, it's certainly nothing like this planet, I'll tell you that. Imagine a world made entirely of metal-a world full of gleaming towers and sprawling landscapes that shine so bright in the daytime that you'd think that you were staring into the sun. There were so many wonders I could tell you about, Kita. Like this forest made entirely of crystal. It was such a beautiful sight that I will never forget for the rest of my life."

The smile that grew on her face during her explanation faded away as she said her next piece, and the soil in her hand was blown from her fingers by the wind, scattering into fine dust. "My home, Cybertron, was the only home I will ever know, and now it's gone. And the only way I will ever see it again, is as a memory."

XXXXXX

Later that evening, Chromia and Kita returned to the farm, where Kita made dinner for herself and Coll using the fruit and plants she gathered from the forest. Chromia sat in the barn, a tube plugged into her arm channeling energon into her fuel systems. When she went to visit the Autobot, Kita glanced at the unusual machine she had with her.

"Good evening," Kita greeted. "I didn't see you at dinner earlier."

"I don't eat." Chromia said. "At least, not like you."

"Is this like your food, then?" Kita asked, pointing at the machine.

"Yes. That blue liquid is energon. And this," Chromia knocked her fist against the little case at her side. "Is a converter. It turns different things, like sunlight, into energon. Nowhere near as good as the real thing, but it does the job. I'll need to ration my reserves of pure energon just in case."

Kita nodded and sat on a pile of hay next to Chromia. "Could this…energon, help you fix your, uh…"

"Ship."

"Ship?"

"Nah, there's no way I can fix that." The femme frowned. "I need to call my friends, but I'll have to wait."

"How long?"

"I don't know. Maybe a long time." Chromia looked down and saw the sad look on Kita's cute face. "Oh, come on now, don't frown. I'm not gonna leave you tomorrow or something!"

"I know, it's just…" Kita sighed. "We've known each other for only a short time, but you are like family. I don't want you to go."

"Kita, I like you too, but…I have friends in the sky as well. They'll need me back." She sighed. "And there are…others like me, but not as nice. A lot of those people aren't as friendly to little people like I am."

Kita hummed. "Are you afraid of them?"

Chromia smiled at that. She was afraid of no one, but her enemies on the other hand… "No. There's just more of them than me."

"So you hide."

"Yeah."

"Why? Why do they hurt you?"

'Wow, she's just full of questions tonight, isn't she?' She thought fondly. "Because, that's what they do. There's a war, my people, the ones with this symbol," She pointed to the Autobrand on her chest. "Help others like you. But my enemies only seek to take what they can and hurt others, mostly because they're not like us."

"They are bad." Kita said.

"Yes." Chromia nodded.

"And you are good?"

Another nod. "Yes."

"You don't hurt things?"

That made Chromia go silent. Kita already took her silence as an answer.

"To hurt another being-to us-there is no greater evil that can be done." She said forlornly.

"Hey, I'm one of the good guys, Kita," Chromia said defensively. "I fight to protect the innocent. People who like you and Coll who can't defend themselves."

Seeing that Kita wasn't very convinced (and rightfully so, Chromia thought) Chromia decided to change the subject. "You now, tomorrow-since I'll be here a while-why don't we get started on fixing up this farm of yours?"

"That sounds great, Chromia!" Kita smiled.

"Good. Now go on to bed, little on." Chromia smiled back. "It's way past your bedtime."

XXXXXX

Early next morning, Chromia and Kita got to work on fixing up the patch worked roof of the house and barn. It was a little difficult, seeing as Chromia had to use rudimentary tools like a hammer and axe instead of a standard laser cutter and such. They spent all morning working on the house, and part of the afternoon fixing up the barn and properly turning the garden into something that could actually grow food. By mid-afternoon, the children's' house looked as good as new, as a home should for two orphans.

Chromia and Kita spent the free time back at the glade while Coll played by the house. Chromia leaned against a tree in the sunlight, eyes closed, just enjoying the peace and quiet.

"You've done so much for us in your time here." Kita said as she walked over to her. The girl had her hair untied and flowing over her shoulders, with a headband of violet flowers holding her hair back.

"It was the least I could do." Chromia smiled. "It's not as though I'm going anywhere soon."

"I wish, if I may say, that you didn't have to-oh!" Kita jerked her hand back as she was lightly burned by Chromia's heated armor.

"Sorry! I'm sorry." Chromia apologized profusely. "I didn't realize-the sun…"

Kita wasn't angry, just intrigued, as she always was with the Autobot. "You don't feel the heat?"

"No. We don't really feel hot or cold. Not at this level."

Kita placed her hands on Chromia's larger ones. "But you do feel."

"Yes, of course, but-Kita, I can't stay. I'm a soldier, I've killed people. This war has forced me to do things I have nightmares about." She stood up and waved her arms at the beautiful scenery around them. "All this, the beauty, the nature, the innocent people, I've seen it all burn countless times. Primus, I can't even remember the last time when I felt so peaceful without having someone shoo at me."

Chromia sighed and ran her hand over her face. There was a reason Autobots were forbidden from making contact with native species unless it was strictly diplomatic business. It was so easy to get attached to them, to form bonds with members of other races. It made losing them to the war all the more devastating, and many Autobots were mentally scarred from such losses.

"Do you like flowers?"

Kita's question caught her off guard. "Well, not really-I would know what to do with them."

Kita smiled and picked up some white flowers, presenting them to Chromia in a little bouquet. "You give them to girls silly."

Chromia looked at her puzzled before grinning and reaching down. "Why thank you, little lady."

Their tender moment was cut short as the sound of engines roaring blared through the air, startling them. A large shadow blocked out the sun momentarily and Chromia saw a Decepticon shuttle fly over them at low altitude, low enough to make out the jagged details of the spacecraft.

"No," She whispered. "Kita, I have to get to the house. Where's Coll?"

"He was playing-ah!" Kita gasped as she realized where the ship was flying to. "He was playing by the house!"

Chromia cursed and transformed. Kita hopped on and gripped the handle bars tightly as the femme drove out of the glade. Chromia silently prayed that the children weren't going to be another casualty to add to the list.

XXXXXX

There were seven Decepticons in total; the squad leader, Dolza and is team consisting of Shredder, Dreadbot, Gnasher, Foras, Mega and Giga. They scouted the front yard of the house with Coll sitting on the grass, looking up at them in awe.

"No weapon signatures or biopulse readings." Shredder said.

"Keep looking. That glitch is here somewhere." Dolza said, glaring down at Coll. "Fan out. Find them."

"Autosmot." Coll clapped his hands at them.

"Ugh, filthy creature." Dolza pointed his arm cannon at the child and fingered the trigger.

"Coll!" Kita ran out of the forest, ignoring Chromia hissing for her to wait. Dolza stomped his foot into her path and snatched her up in his tight grasp.

"Where are they, girl!" He roared in her face, scaring her.

Foras, Gnasher and Mega entered the forest and began to scout the area further in. Foras was searching the tree line for any stragglers hiding in the thick bush. He wasn't expecting a combat knife to his cranium. Her dying gargles caught Gnasher's attention and he readied his twin shoulder cannons. Chromia jumped to the ground and threw a tungsten rod at him, impaling his head and knocking him back just as he fired his cannons.

The gunshot caught the attention of the remaining Decepticons and the children, making Chromia curse as she lost the element of surprise. She reached into her thigh compartment and took out another extendable spear, rushing off to find the other mech.

"I just lost Gnasher and Foras-" Shredder paused as he got another beep on his wrist panel. "And Mega. We've got contact."

"Three Autobots in two minutes?" Dolza frowned. "Call in reinforcements Giga."

"Huh? But we can-"

"Do it!" He yelled. "Shredder, how many do you think are here?"

"Not sure, at least five." He shrugged.

Kita trembled at the towering metal giants. They were clearly the same species as Chromia, but they were more violent…more terrifying. Forcing her fear down, she pleaded with her captors. "Please, d-don't hurt her."

"What?" Dolza growled.

"She will not hurt you. Please, she is peaceful." She said.

"She?" Shredder's eyes narrowed.

"She only wishes to find her friends and-" Kita was cut off by a sharp laugh from Dolza.

"They told you they were heroes, did they?"He sneered. He lifted her in his hand and pointed his gun at her body. "Autobots! Show yourselves! Show yourselves or we will kill this…thing!"

Kita winced as his grip on her tightened. "Please-"

"They won't come. You're what the Autobots refer to as 'acceptable losses'. They preach morality, but show little difference from us…save weakness." He grinned. "We will kill you-and the smaller one-and then wait for reinforcements to arrive. And all they'll do is hide under a rock!"

"Don't do it!"

Everyone turned to see Chromia walking out of the forest, her hands up and weaponless. "Let her go."

"Chromia!" Kita gasped and yelped as Dolza dropped her to the ground.

"You've got to be kidding me." Giga gaped.

"Where are the others?" Dolza asked.

"It's just me." Chromia said, slowly edging closer to Kita. "Just me."

"Only one of you?!" Dolza growled. "Where are my warriors? There were three of them. There's one of you…and you're tiny!"

"Do not hurt her. She just wants to find her friends." Kita begged, clutched her aching hips where she was squeezed.

"Of course she does. Why wouldn't she? She wants to escape." Dolza sneered. Kita shook her head.

"She is peaceful and-"

"She is a murderer! A killer like us!" Giga roared.

Dolza stabbed a finger at Chromia. "This 'hero' of yours is an assassin. She slipped into our headquarters, killed five guards and assassinated out commander. Her ship was found and destroyed. We've been hunting her ever since."

Kita shook her head in disbelief, tears running from her eyes. "Her ship…it crashed…"

"Tell her Autobot!"

Chromia bit her lip, looking down at Kita and Coll with saddened eyes. "Kita…I'm so sorry."

"No!" Kita cried.

Dolza laughed at the scene. "This tragedy is devastating. Really, it is."

Chromia glared up at him, trying to block out Kita's crying. "You can have me, but you must let them go!"

"Sure' we'll let them go." Dolza said, and roughly nudged Kita with his foot, knocking her down. "In pieces!"

Chromia was already moving before he finished his sentence. Moving faster than she thought she could, she flung a knife at Dolza's gun arm before he could raise the weapon in Kita's direction. It stunned him long enough for Chromia to rush in and grab Kita up.

"You bastard Autobot!" Shredder hissed and threw a thermal grenade at Coll. "Let's see you do that again!"

"Coll!" Kita cried out.

With Kita still in her arms, Chromia sprinted forward to save Coll, reaching him just as the grenade detonated right next to them. Chromia covered the children with her body as the explosion engulfed her.

XXXXXXX

A few minutes later, Chromia came back online, just as she heard another ship landing in the yard. She looked beside her and saw Kita and Coll unconscious in her arms from the blast wave, but still alive. She exhaled sharply and jumped up, running into the barn as the Decepticons laughed at her.

"Where are you going, Autobot?" Dolza cackled. "You can't hide anymore "

Chromia pushed the doors open and laid the kids on a pile of soft hay, shutting the doors behind her.

"Chromia…?" Kita called out weakly, wincing at the ringing headache she had right now. "Where are you? Why is it so dark?"

"I'm here, sweetie." Chromia knelt down in front of them, relieved to the point of crying, if she could. "You're both safe now. Don't worry."

Kita nodded and hugged Coll closer to her. "T-those people outside. They almost-I thought we were going to-!"

"Shh, it's okay. They won't hurt you two anymore." She whispered, hugging Kita close to her face/ "I'll take care of them, so they'll never hurt you again!"

She stood up and marched towards her emergency pack, which also held her blasters. As she pulled them out, Kita asked another heartbreaking question that stopped her cold.

"Are you going to kill them?" Kita asked, looking at Chromia tearfully. "Are you going to murder them like you did the others?"

Chromia's answer was short and to the point. "Yes."

Kita winced at the frigidness in her tone. "This is what you've been doing all these years? Fighting a war and killing people?"

"Yes."

"Why? To take another being's-why do you do such an evil thing?"

"To keep you safe, Kita! What happened just now? That's happening on other worlds too." Chromia made sure her guns were fully charged. "As an Autobot, I'm obligated to fight for those unable to do so for themselves. No one ever said I could do it without bloodshed. Those people, the Decepticons, never gave me a choice."

Kita could only watch as Chromia stood at the doors with a sort of darkness hovering over her now. She turned back and gave the girl a sad grin.

"I hope you don't have to suffer like I have, Kita. War changes people, and I've long since lost that part of me that made me pure, innocent." She smiled. "Now stay in here, and don't come out until I say so."

XXXXXX

"One? You called me out here for one Autobot?" Yelled the Decepticon general in Dolza's face.

"Hey, when I made the call, we thought there must have been a whole-"

"Bah!" The general turned back to his ship. "Take care of this yourself and stop wasting my time."

"Fine. We'll take care of that blue femme and-"

The general froze. "Did you say blue femme?"

"Yeah," Dolza nodded. "Light blue-"

"Short?"

"Yeah."

"Slender?"

"Mouth like a Stentarian?"

"Yeah, but-"

The general gave a loud curse and turned to his men. "Arm yourselves! Hurry, we-"

"Nice ship, oil holes!" Chromia burst out of the barn, guns blazing and charged at them with a look of murderous rage. "I think I'll take it!"

XXXXXX

The battle was…bloody. Chromia had sustained some damages from fighting a group of fully armed Decepticons, but the wounds were superficial, nothing a CR chamber couldn't fix. In the end, she had left a pile of bodies inside the ship's cargo bay, so that no one would have to look at the morbid scene. Once she was done, she fell onto her back on the soft grass and gazed up at the blue sky. After a while, she heard the sound of tiny feet running towards her.

"Chromia!" Kita and Coll called out to her. She opened one eye and smiled.

"Hey," She greeted and sat up. "I told you I'd take care of them."

The children hugged her arm and she let them vent their emotions. Primus knew they went through so much already.

Once she regained some energy, Chromia made preparations to leave the planet before any more Cons came looking for their missing buddies. She wasn't going to let this world get caught up in her war, not when it meant so much to her already. Kita and Coll's teary faces made it harder than it was supposed to be, and it was already sunset when Chromia had the ship prepped and ready to go.

"Come on, Coll. I have to go." Chromia said softly.

"No!" Coll shook his head as he hugged her leg tightly. "No go!"

"Coll, please, this is hard enough already." She sighed.

Thankfully, Kita took Coll's hand and pulled him away from her. Kita took a deep breath and looked up at Chromia with unshed tears. "Is there really no way to make you stay?"

"No, Kita. Not after today. It's best I leave you two alone so you won't have any more unwanted guests."

"I see," Kita sniffled and nodded. "I understand."

Chromia got on one knee and lifted Kita's chin with her fingertip. "Kita, I said I would be gone, but when it's safer for you both, I'll come by and visit."

Kita's face brightened. "You promise?"

"I promise." Chromia smiled. She hugged the siblings and whispered to Coll. "Take care of your sister, okay?"

"Okay!" He chirped.

With one last parting glance, Chromia boarded the ship and the landing hatch slid closed. Kita and Coll waved the ship and their Autobot friend goodbye as it lifted off the ground and flew into the air once its boosters fired up. Within minutes, the ship was lost in the darkening orange sky.

As for Chromia, she prayed that the children lived long, happy lives as she reached the planet's upper orbit. There were many times when she questioned herself on what the hell she was fighting for in this endless war. Meeting those children had reminded her why she became an Autobot in the first place.

And it made her more determined to win this war and live to see its end.


	7. On the Beat

Chapter 6-On the Beat

A planet.

A tantalizing offer.

A rendezvous.

A mystery.

Solving mysteries was what Nightbeat excelled at. Typical cases that dealt with the basic three Ws: Who? What? Why?

Who: Krakon, a mech whose body he was standing over inside his trader ship. He was a native of the planet Hyperion-a mercenary, adventurer, and explorer…a trader in everything from outlawed weaponry to "unusual" artifacts. He contacted Nightbeat out of the blue holding a flight recorder from the legendary Proudstar that he found on Gorlam Prime. He was offering it to Nightbeat for a price.

What: Krakon was dead. Nightbeat found him at death's door muttering about a hole in the world before his Spark burnt out. His cause of death was unknown, but it was certainly unnatural. There were no external wounds, but he displayed signs of Necrosis, though his scans of the body showed negative for signs of corrosive substances or nerve agents it was like the life was just sucked out of him. Impossible, maybe, but it was a big galaxy.

Why: Theft? Revenge? Sanction? For a mech in Krakon's line of work, Nightbeat figured he upset a lot of people. The possibilities were endless. But as he explored the cargo hold of Krakon's ship, Nightbeat saw signs of theft-a very specific theft. There was a lot of valuable stuff in Krakon's possession-J'organ lances, fission canisters, chimera orbs, a Quintesson stardrive (Nightbeat would love to know how the hell he got his hands on that), but after searching the ship from top to bottom, Nightbeat realized that the only thing mission was the flight recorder Krakon offered him.

Not there was the question of who would kill to claim, or perhaps, recover, it. To Nightbeat, it was a bit of a personal matter-a possible lead to a very older mystery.

Almost seven million years ago, at the height of the Golden Age, Nova Prime and a crew of his most trusted warriors left Cybertron aboard the Proudstar. Their mission-to spearhead a new age of Cybertronian expansion, and spread their ideals to the rest of the galaxy. But as it neared the Benzuli Expanse, the Proudstar vanished, all hands lost.

Since that time, hard facts became legends, the scant recorded data turned-by word of mouth-into apocrypha. Some believed that it's the one mystery that should be left unsolved. Nightbeat wasn't one of those people. If he wanted answers about the object, then he was going to have to head to the world where Krakon had "uncovered" the object-Gorlam Prime.

XXXXXX

Gorlam Prime was a world that somehow managed to escape the elongated claws of the encroaching Great War. A distant world that was actually pretty ordinary to the naked eye; with no strategic value or special mineral or energy source that would put it on the map of any Cybertronian. Ultra Magnus actually had the planet under surveillance because he suspected Gorlam Prime of being a perfect, out of the way hiding spot for war criminals to hide out. Nightbeat parked his ship in orbit and performed an orbital jump to the planet's surface.

Orbital jumps were another way for Cybertronians to get around, in fact, it was the only other way for bots to reach planetfall before the invention of the ground bridge. It involved warping from one point of the planet to another, "bouncing" off the orbiting ship in question like a beam of light reflecting off a mirror. It was archaic at this point in the war, but many ships still used it for simplicity's sake. It was also cheaper in energy terms and a solid way to bypass any local sensor network. Gorlam Prim was home to an advanced civilization, but they had not achieved space travel yet, and heaven help them if their first contact situation was with an Autobot sneaking around in the shadows.

Upon jumping to the planet's surface, he scanned the nearest vehicle and reformatted his body into an exact copy of the vehicle, a modest looking car with a blue paint job. With that done, he transformed and tool to the road leading into the target city. Time to get to work.

XXXXXX

'What a strange planet.' Nightbeat thought. It was an odd observation to make for an Autobot who served multiple campaigns on hundreds of worlds, half of them populated, but it was the only thing he could think of upon seeing the natives for the first time.

Gorlam Prime was a bland, ordinary world from above and below. The natives were nothing special-humanoid, carbon dioxide breathers evolved from simian creatures a millennia ago. It was common for a species this primitive to grow into a technologically advanced world; evolving from using wooden and stone tools to mining and forging metals, to creating machines that ran on locally reusable resources such as steam and heat, then electricity, reaching the digital age. But somehow, these people, having never achieved anything significant in terms of space travel, had skipped the digital process and began augmenting their bodies with cybernetics.

Every person Nightbeat had seen harbored some kind of machinery ingrained within their bodies. They were still mostly organic, something along the lines of biomechanical, but Nightbeat knew that give these people a few thousand years, they'll slowly evolve into a race of fully mechanical beings.

'I wonder if Cybertron was like this once?' He thought. 'Were we like these people here? Born of flesh and bone, and evolved into our mechanical shells?'

Nightbeat didn't put much stock into religious creation myths like that of the Guiding Hand and the Primus/Unicron tale. He liked to place his belief in things he could physically prove, but even the scientific theory of atechnogenesis, the belief that Cybertronian life spawned from naturally occurring machines in nature, was a bit of a stretch, even for him. But even he had doubts in his own biomechanical evolution theory-their race was just too odd to have been spawned from organic creatures; their biology, their reproduction methods, their planet, their very Sparks. These things threw any sort of rational explanation out the window, and would probably never be explained within the next million years. Nightbeat didn't know what to believe anymore.

Back to the mission at hand; Nightbeat had went through the logs on Krakon's ship. They referenced a number of excavations near the planet's largest metropolis, which was where he was currently located right now. The first three yielded nothing important, other than one tiny detail-an incongruity.

The indigenous society on Gorlam Prime only reached full industrial maturity seven hundred years ago. And yet the geological strata revealed by Krakon's diggers proved that Gorlam itself began its technological evolution far earlier…all of which suggested outside/offworld manipulation. An enigma wrapped in a mystery.

Nightbeat drove towards the excavation site on slowly descended a few twisting ramps to the lower levels. The place was completely deserted, with construction vehicles left out in the open, no one in sight. Good. And his scanners detected no Cybertronian biopulses either, so he could rest easy.

"Okay cave of wonders," He muttered. "Show me your secrets."

He walked up to the old machinery and did a chrono-metallurgical scan on it. Results showed that this stuff was old-very old. Six million years old.

"Six million years…" He whispered. "The same time period the Proudstar vanished. This is getting juicy."

He shined his spotlight down the massive shaft at the heart of the site, that went deep into the planet. Thousands of feet deep, enough that he couldn't see the bottom. Nightbeat looked down into the darkness and thought back to Krakon's last words.

" _There's…a…hgh-hole…in the world…"_

Nightbeat felt the air around him shift. The sun was almost gone, and long, black shadows covered the deserted site. The atmosphere felt darker, thicker. Everything seemed more ominous. Suddenly, it felt like he was being followed.

'This is what I get for going solo.' He thought. thinking it would better safe than sorry, Nightbeat recorded his findings and transmitted the data via carrier wave to his ship.

"Okay, let's do this." Nightbeat tried to pump himself up, but failed miserably. He inhaled deeply and marched down the side of the shaft, taking an elevator the rest of the way.

As he vanished into the darkness below, four pairs of eyes followed his movements.

XXXXXX

There was a popular saying on Terra-curiosity killed the cat. Nightbeat would never hear it, but if he did, he would agree with how it related to his nearly obsessive habit of looking for answers to questions better left unanswered.

The tunnel he walked through was built for beings of his size and stature-an underground network stretching over an almost incalculable area. Obviously this was no coincidence, there were Cybertronians involved, and this discovery was only a small part of something bigger.

'Am I...shaking?' Nightbeat looked at his hand and noticed that he was indeed shaking. He was shaking in fear. The deeper he walked into the tunnel, the darker his world became. The silence felt deafening, and even his footsteps made him anxious. He suddenly felt very small and alone.

"A regular sane bot would've bowed out by now. But no, Nightbeat, you had to keep digging." He said to himself. "I should back off now. Head back to my ship and call a tactical unit before something happens. Why aren't my legs stopping?!"

Nightbeat ceased his ramblings as he reached a giant silver door. Now he had a choice: turn back, return to his ship, report his findings and await a full unit, or open the door and possibly uncover the answer to one of the greatest mysteries in Cybertronian history. His curiosity outweighed his common sense. Chromedome once remarked that his innate curiosity will be the death of him, and he believed that without question.

It took some effort getting the massive door open, but once he did, Nightbeat was treated to a sight he didn't expect. At first glance, he thought he was staring at some kind of abnormal pool of bubbling silver liquid. But he dismissed that hypothesis as he realized just what this thing was.

"It's a portal." Nightbeat breathed. The silver liquid was some kind of dimensional interface, but on a massive scale. "A hole in the world."

Nightbeat cautiously stepped into the shallows, grimacing at the viscosity of the substance and the sticky sounds it made as he wadded through it, like tar. He wanted to go in deeper, but his danger sense went off and he backed away from the pool. He turned to see four mechs pointing their weapons at him.

"Whoa, whoa, I mean you no harm." Nightbeat said. He could tell they were Cybertronian, but their design was alien to him. No, not alien…archaic. Filing that away for later, he asked, "Are you-I mean, do you have names? This place, do you live here?"

Nothing. Just blank stares and mindless, unified intent. He heard something behind him and looked back to see multiple figures emerging from the portal, bodies coated in liquid, arms reached out for him.

"No you don't!" Nightbeat jumped out of their reach and transformed. Something told him that surrender was not an option for him.

He raced down the tunnel with the six mechs driving after him in their alt modes. They were smaller than him, but faster as well, which he noticed as two drove along the wall to cut him off. Two more had deployed missile pods from their hoods and began firing on him. They weren't firing missiles, but neural disruptors, tiny dark-like projectiles that could paralyze a bot's neural circuitry in one shot.

'They want me alive.' He thought.

He swerved along the walls to avoid being hit, and pushed his engine to the max. These mechs were very fast, and two already passed him by on the sides, landing in front of him and dropping EMP grenades on the dirt path. Nightbeat cursed and did a hard right into a separate tunnel-which was the wrong thing to do. He didn't see the wall of debris until he almost crashed into it; he transformed to robot mode and slid to a stop.

"Slag…" He growled. Nightbeat took out his blaster and began shooting at his pursuers. He managed to shoot down two before the third mech fired three neural disruptors that caught him in the legs. "Agh!"

Nightbeat fell to his knees, the circuits in his legs going numb. The effects began spreading to the rest of his body, slowing his movements and cognitive functions.

"Welcome, Nightbeat. We have been expecting you." A cordial voice said. The silent mechs-or were they drones?-stepped aside to allow a tall figure to walk forward. Nightbeat gaped at his odd appearance. "Waiting for you. The answers you have sought are all here."

Nightbeat shook his head to clear his processor and reached for his gun. He tried to pull the trigger when two clawed fingers buried into his shoulder, near his neck cables. A strong jolt made his mind go blank and Nightbeat passed out.

"Bring him in."

XXXXXX

Fragments. Nightbeat knew only fragments of his situation, upon awakening to semi-consciousness, in a place somewhere. Somewhere cold and frightening. Restrained to a slab, no movement, the upper part of his cranial unit exposed to a device above his head.

"It is almost time…"

"Agreed. The Expansion will soon begin."

Nightbeat heard voices, but could not see anyone. He couldn't move or speak, but his mind was still operating at sub-normal speeds. Now he understood the terrible truth.

They brought him here, lured him here. They preyed on his quest to uncover the big truths ad reeled him in. used his detective skills as bait. That realization sent a wave of anguish coursing through him.

"…cerebral implant primed…buffer blocks ready…" More voices, and then he felt the top half of his cranial unit be pulled off and felt a sharp sting in his brain module.

There is no serious pain while they poke and drill into his head, even with him still awake; only a faint stinging sensation that began irritating him. Then that irritation threatened to drive him insane when it went on for too long. He felt every needle, every drill, every scratch. Then something plugged into his brain module to work its dark magic.

Nightbeat caught hint of some words and phrases-"Dolem", "Dead Universe" and "Emissary"-until finally the stinging stopped and someone whispered into his ear. A female voice.

"When we are ready, we will call. And you…you will know what to do!"

Then, as if flicking a switch, everything went dark, and Nightbeat knew only oblivion.

XXXXXX

"Ninety-nine bottles of Visco on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of booze~"

Singing was always the first sign of loneliness, and this made Nightbeat depressed. He sat alone in his shuttle, doing routine sweeps of the Durzan sector. Regular patrols and what not.

"I'm so bored!" He groaned. He enjoyed working solo; enjoyed the free-ranging, mostly self-structured remit from the normal hustle and bustle of Autobot command. But at times like this, it does get a little lonely at times.

"You know what Nightbeat? What you need is a good mystery." Nightbeat told himself. Talking to yourself was another sign of loneliness, and insanity. "Something you occupy your mind."

Nightbeat brought up his old case files, which were low in number. His fingers hovered over a particularly juicy one, something about the Proudstar…

" _Nightbeat,"_ Elita-1's face appeared on his monitor. " _This is Elita-1."_

I'm here, Elita-1." Nightbeat said, mentally thanking the Autobot Valkyrie for giving him someone to talk to.

" _I want you to rendezvous with the Steelhaven at Grid Vega. Ultra Magnus has need of your special talents."_ She said.

"Understood. On my way-ow!" Nightbeat winced as a sharp pain ran through his head.

" _Nightbeat, are you alright?"_

"I-I'm fine. It's nothing. Just a minor cerebral surge." Nightbeat smiled and waved her off. "I'll be with Ultra Magnus shortly. Nightbeat out."

'Nothing?' He wondered as Elita-1 signed off. No something was off. As the pain in his head subsided, Nightbeat had the disquieting feeling that he was missing something.

On the computer behind him, there was a message from a week ago that was left unopened: **Carrier wave received at Gamma-Zero Four. Action?**


	8. Speed

Chapter 7-Speed

 **Iacon, Cybertron: Five million years ago**

" _Final checks."_

 _Blurr stood still as a statue, but his servos were vibrating and the exhaust vents on his shoulders vented puffs of air, humming to life as his game time drew near._

" _We're clear. Readings are good."_

" _Prepped and ready, Blurr?"_

" _Do it." He said._

" _Disengage and set for launch."_

 _Pipes of coolant disengaged from his shoulders and the lights shined on his sleek, sky blue body. The other three racers got into their starting positions, but Blurr stood straight. It didn't matter how he started, what mattered was how he finished._

 _He heard the roar of the crowd outside, but he kept his attention on the track. Rookies who got arrogant before the race even began always made that mistake, tripping over their own feet while waving to the crowd. Never brag until you actually win a race. He tightened his shock absorbers, increased power to his motors, and waited for that magic light to turn his favorite color. Red…yellow…green…GO!_

 _The five racers sprinted forward and the crowd went wild as their favorite racers came into view. They were only on foot for this part of the race, but they were already moving faster than most average bots in their alt modes. The track curved tightly, but Blurr just let his mind do the work, winding through each turn, letting air flow over his body and guide him forward. Within seconds he saw the second checkpoint of the track and subtly increased his speed, ignoring the Sky Spies hovering over the track, recording the action._

 _Blurr was the first to reach the checkpoint, his body smoothly shifting into a high-speed hovercar form that was even faster than his robot mode. His runner-up was already a minute behind, and those counted in races like these. He pitied the poor mech. When Blurr the Godspeed stepped onto the track that mech's chances of success went from 50/50 to next to nil. By the time the runner-up had reached the third and final checkpoint, Blurr had already driven past the finish line._

 _As soon as he won, Blurr transformed and slid to a stop, raising his arms to the crowd that chanted his name. This was the life; racing every night in the largest stadium in the western hemisphere, in front of nearly all of Rodion's population. The lights, the sounds, the exhilarating thrill of speed. It was heaven on Cybertron._

 _Blurr of Iacon was a winner, and winners got to live this wonderful life._

XXXXXX

 **Abrax, Present Day**

Blurr inwardly winced as he felt his tires squeal upon turning a corner. The vehicle he scanned as a disguise had soft treads with too much grip. The Autobot couldn't work out how anyone could drive on tires like these. Every time he made a hard turn, he could feel the friction his tires had and resisted shuddering uncomfortably. As soon as he had a chance, he was going to ditch these wheels in favor of smooth ones made of harder material. But these streets he drove on, despite being made of ground stone and hardened tar, reminded him of Cybertron's metal roadways. The grace, the maneuverability, the slide…it made him want to scream out in joy-if only Abraxian Lieutenant Lori wasn't seated in his driver's seat

Like all Abraxians, Lori had smooth bone white skin, long flowing black hair that shined like smooth onyx in the sunlight and striking cat-like green eyes. Her steel-gray bodysuit hugged her ample form, but was as durable as body armor from Gorlam Prime. Her hands were on the steering wheel as though she was actually driving, and Blurr let her keep thinking that.

" _What's your ETA, Blurr? It's getting hot over here!"_ Alpha Bravo's voice was beamed straight into Blurr's internal receptors via their private comm-channel. No one but the Autobot could hear him.

"I thought that you said you could handle it, Alpha." Blurr transmitted back. "You're always so gung-ho about every mission, I thought you'd want to prove yourself. Besides, what would the squad even need a helicopter for child birth?"

" _She could be stranded in the wilderness. You don't know!"_

"The address was five blocks from the med-center," Blurr darted left to avoid the deep pothole in the street. Lori didn't see it, but she credited the swerve to her lightning fast reflexes. She even gave a soft "nailed it!"

" _Abraxans have very complex biologies, I'll have you know!"_ Alpha Bravo said. " _Time was urgent. Like it is now!"_

Blurr detected the increasing panic in his friend's voice and accelerated a bit more. Lori didn't even seem to notice.

"Heat Wave, where are you? Alpha's in trouble!" He called.

" _I'm a little busy here as well, thunder feet!"_ Heat Wave grunted, torn between putting out the assumed inferno causing the disaster right this minute.

Blurr skidded to a stop as Lori stomped on the brake pedal and she grabbed her bag before sprinting out of her "car" to meet with the other rescuers. Blurr cursed his luck-he wouldn't be able to help at this distance.

The disaster in question was a raging inferno that engulfed a building in a populated area. It was an intense fire that burned at temperatures that rivaled some Cybertronian laser weapons. Cybertronians could be able to withstand the blaze for a limited time-Abraxans, however, it would be deadly to get within even thirty meters. Rescue teams had to form a perimeter around the wild fire and turn on their hose trucks. What water did make it to the building had little effect.

With good reason. The building burning to a crisp was a chemical manufacturing planet dedicated to producing a fuel additive designed to burn cleaner and produce fewer toxin emissions that harmed the environment. It was, however, highly combustible on its own. Now that he thought about it, Blurr remembered trying a new drink at an Abraxan bar that used this fuel as well. The robophobic bartender made a show of igniting the fuel in the drink that provided a spectacular show and burned away any residue from the chemical to make a (relatively) safe drink for organics. Or so he claimed.

Blurr could see Alpha Bravo hovering over the towering pillar of smoke. The white helicopter was dispensing water into the heart of the fire. Unfortunately, this too was completely ineffective.

"Alpha, I need to find a way in. I can't do a thing out here." Blurr said to his partner. He had to encrypt the message in case Alpha Bravo's pilot, another female Abraxan with long silky black hair and thin but durable glasses, would accidentally catch it on her modified satellite radio. "Can you provide a distraction?"

" _Another one? For Primus' sake, Blurr, I'm going to be decommissioned if I have to provide any more distractions for you!"_ Alpha Bravo complained.

Just then, one of the vat of chemicals must have caught aflame and the result was spectacular. A spiraling fiery vortex shot through the roof of the building and into the sky. Blurr lost sight of Alpha Bravo behind a tower of blue flames and smoke.

"Alpha!" Blurr almost instinctively transformed to robot mode from the intensity of Heat Wave's panic. The fire squad stared transfixed at the blistering blue tornado that seemed to have swallowed the rescue chopper.

" _Ow…you wanted a distraction? Well, this is as good as it's going to get."_ Alpha Bravo emerged from the flames, singed and damaged, adding a bit of wobble from his rotors to further gain the attention of onlookers.

Blurr didn't waste the opportunity and rolled away in reverse from the rescue teams. Once he was out of earshot, he revved towards the side of the chemical plant.

After double-checking to see if he was out of sight and earshot, Blurr increased his engine output and barreled through the locked doors. The doors were no match for his hardened Cybertronian armor, but the heat was another story altogether. He carefully maneuvered into what appeared to be a warehouse that stored ingredients for the fuel additives' recipe. Mangham, Renastum, Flantianite, Thorringult…wait, there was no sign of that last one. Filing that piece for later in his mind, he was about to convert into robot mode when he heard a muffled cough. There, on the opposite side of the warehouse, behind a freezer door.

'There's no way anyone can survive these temperatures.' Blurr thought. 'Not even in here.'

Navigating the thin isles of the warehouse on four wheels instead of two legs was a hassle. It was even more difficult as the intense heat melted his tires to the rim. But still, Blurr continued driving towards the fridge. When he heard another cough, he was positive there were survivors. With a quick mental command, his vibro-blade slid free from his hood and jammed it into the door, the vibrating blade easily cutting the metal to shreds and soon, four Abraxan scientists huddle inside were now facing the boiling temperatures of the warehouse around them. Blurr spun around so his right side was facing the scientists and opened his doors for them to crawl in. he cranked his air conditioning to the max and drove as fast as he could, his metal rims grinding and whining against the superheated metal plating of the warehouse floor.

Once Blurr had some space to properly move, he felt his motors speed up and he became a literal streak of blue light, all the while his exhaust fumes spewing from the four separate mufflers under his rear fender was blown into the air. Carbon monoxide mixed with the loose oxygen molecules in the air, suffocating the flames lapping away at the last of its oxygen. Blurr had already smashed back through the doors he entered, already knowing that Alpha Bravo's water spray could douse the rest.

When his panic-striken and heat struck passengers finally began to regain awareness of what just happened Blurr had already initiated a holomatter of LT. Menz behind the steering wheel. He did his best to mimic her upbeat attitude. "Are you folks alright?"

All four passengers nodded and Blurr mentally smiled.

It took several more hours to get the fire under control, but it was eventually extinguished. The rescue crew was replaced by investigators and insurance adjusters, and the rescue vehicles and equipment were driven back to the station house. His rotors overheated and his paint blistering, Alpha Bravo shut himself down and embraced the cold, soapy water with which Captain Misha sprayed him. It was soothing, almost relaxing. The Captain had been flying Alpha Bravo since she was promoted a year ago, so she knew every inch of the Autobot's alt mode.

Lieutenant Lori Menz had Blurr up on the rack, replacing his melted tires and wondering how her "car" had gotten so ashen. "I really have no idea how this happened. I'm sure I parked far enough away…"

"It was probably caught in the same updraft as my chopper. There's no predicting fires sometimes." The Captain finished scrubbing the last of the smoke and ash from Alpha Bravo's white armor. Lt. Menz accepted the explanation and lowered the lift. Blurr gave a silent hum in appreciation at his new, underinflated and thick treaded tires.

"Lieutenant, why don't we go out for a drink tonight?" Lori placed a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder, emerald eyes sparking. "I think we deserve it after tonight."

Mish looked like she wanted to refuse, but couldn't say no to the taller Abraxan's bright smile. "Sure…just no Fireballs this time."

Lori gave a cheer. "You got it!"

As soon as the two women were gone, Blurr converted to robot mode and sat on the lift, stretching his arms. Alpha Bravo transformed as well and walked over to the blue Autobot.

Blurr looked himself over, noticing he was still covered in soot. "Oh sure, you got a bath."

"Don't hate. You got some new wheels." Alpha Bravo tapped the tires on Blurr's shoulders.

Blurr slapped his hand away and grinned. "First thing back at base, I'm getting these babies reformatted."

"Bah! You'll get used to them." Alpha Bravo said, punching Blurr in the shoulder.

"Eh," The racer shrugged. "Maybe."

"If you two are done patting each other on the back," Quickshadow's voice said through their comms. "We're sending a ground bridge for you right now. We're having a team meeting."

"About what?" Blurr asked.

"This recent incident. It wasn't an accident, people. This was sabotage," Quickshadow said grimly. "This is most likely the work of Decepticon influence."

XXXXXX

 _After his race, Blurr and the other races were taken to get cooled down and took a quick wash by the maintenance teams._

" _This is incredible! You've set a new track record…again!" Piston laughed after seeing the results of the race._

" _Won't stand for long." Fastback, the runner-up, muttered._

" _A challenge this late in the game?" Blurr laughed after stepping down from the drier. "Check the boards, brother. Who's aced every championship this season?"_

" _You, Blurr."_

" _Got that right, Patron." Blurr grinned._

 _The mechanic frowned. "It's Piston."_

" _Sure, sure." Blurr waved him off._

 _Piston cleared his throat. "So, uh, the guys and I were thinking, we should, maybe, celebrate. We've been working so hard and-"_

" _Celebrate?" Blurr laughed and clapped Piston on the shoulder merrily. "That doesn't even begin to describe what we're going to be doing tonight!"_

" _Really?" Piston smiled._

" _For sure!"_

" _Great! Well, we thought we could go-"_

" _Hey," Blurr waved a finger in Piston's face. "There's only one place to go on a night like this."_

" _The Circle!" Fastback gave Blurr a high-five and they walked out of the room together, completely forgetting about their work crews in the process of reveling in their victory._

" _Drinks on me!" Blurr hollered in the hall._

 _Piston and Gears were left alone, completely forgotten and unhappy. Gears sighed and placed the cooling tubes back in their holsters. "The Circle? But, bots like us…we can't go in there."_

 _Piston grunted. "Come on, let's clear up the gear."_

 _Outside, it was pandemonium. The crowd was cheering outside the stadium as Blurr and Fastback walked towards the luxury transport parked for them. The blue mech could barely believe that just two years ago he was some washed up messenger bot flittering back and forth from one end of the city to the other like a half crazed turbofox._

" _Blurr, Blurr!" A news mech called out to him, shoving a microphone in his face. "What are your thougths on the current political unrest?"_

 _Blurr gave him a look of genuine confusion. "Excuse me?"_

" _What is your stance on the current political upheaval on Cybertron and what is means to the-"_

" _Political what now?"_

 _The mech gave Blurr a condescending look, as if he were explaining things to a protoform. "Surely you know what's been happening…you do watch the news…"_

" _Pal, I don't watch the news. I am the news." Blurr said haughtily and entered his ride._

 _The Circle was a popular club and sports bar in Rodion. As expected, the club was usually reserved for only the best of the best, namely celebrities and wealthy bots that have made a name for themselves on the mainstream; artists, dancers, racers, or just high-class bots who throw their wealth around. Blurr spends his time here with the other racers after winning every race to celebrate his victories by chugging down his weight in energon._

" _Another round!" Blurr yelled over the loud music, slamming his empty glass on the counter._

 _Fastback nudged his shoulder. "Check that out-simultronic. Reality inside reality."_

 _Blurr grimaced at the mech and femme who had their heads hooked up to a machine that generated VR images into their brains. Simultronic was a popular program from Nyon that placed people in a false reality of their choosing. It was fun in limited amounts, but use it too much to escape reality and you'll end up addicted, just like these people._

" _Brain fry," Blurr sniffed. "Who could ever want to run from a world like this?"_

" _More energon!" Fastback called out. "Heavy on the Fulcrum!"_

" _Don't you guys ever slowdown?" The barkeep laughed._

" _Slow? You insult us!" Blurr laughed cockily. "Wealth, fame and endless upgrades. Racing forever!"_

" _Racing forever!" His drinking buddies cheered. Their partying went well into the night and early into the morning._

 _It was the perfect prelude to the beginning of the of Blurr's peaceful days, as just the next morning, the race track would be destroyed in a wide scale bomb that would signal Rodion's induction into the conflict of the Autobots and Decepticons._

XXXXXX

The Autobot team's base was situated underwater, at the bottom of the nearest lake to the city Blurr, Alpha Bravo and Heat Wave was stationed in. In addition to those three, there was also Chase, Medix, Boulder and Flareup, overseen by Autobot commander Quickshadow.

"All right everybody, time for our bi-weekly meeting of bad news and slightly less bad news." Quickshadow announced to her assembled team. They were in the ship's rec room, which often served as their briefing room and thus everyone was sporting tall glasses of low-grade Visco while they talked business.

"Okay people," Quickshadow clapped her hands. "Anything new today?"

"That fire was the fifth incident in two months." Heat Wave said.

"What else?"

"They look like industrial accidents commonly found in facilities that handle dangerous chemicals and the like, until you take a closer look." Chase said. "There is a very high chance that once the investigators finish looking into that fire, it's going to turn into a crime scene."

"Not to mention some chemicals were stolen from the plant that was just on fire." Blurr chimed in.

"And each of these events show that they were perpetrated by some foreign agent, worsening international matters." Quickshadow frowned. "I don't think I have to say where this all points to, do I?"

Decepticons. It was the only possible answer to these string of incidents and it's something that fit in their modus operandi of increasing existing tensions within the native species. As it was, there were tensions brewing between the Abraxan nations of Kinshara and Mentos. It wasn't anything major now, but once military action was taken, things would be heating up very quickly. The key questions were where were they, and how were they doing it?

"You think they're using facsimiles to do this?" Heat Wave asked.

"Most likely. They won't risk being seen by the Abraxans or us." Quickshadow replied. "The problem is trying to locate them, capture and secure them without alerting the Cons. We're on a time limit here, mechs."

"How about we wait for them at the next possible location they might target first, then catch 'em and make 'em go boom!" Flareup chirped.

"Flare, I'm really getting concerned about your love for explosions." Blurr sighed. He was not having drinks with her at the bar.

"But she does have a point…mostly." Quickshadow grinned. "Let's think up any possible locations that the Cons might consider hitting and monitor them. Chances are we can probably get any facsimiles from our next roll out. Dismissed."

XXXXXX

" _I'm telling you, the races are over!" Taskmaster yelled at Blurr. "So stopbugging me!"_

" _You can't do this!" Blurr protested._

 _News of the track's bombing had spread like wildfire, and suddenly everyone wasn't so merry anymore. The races were canceled as the entire stadium was roped off as a crime scene for police investigation, and it spread to other major cities as well. Blurr had never felt so angry in his life when he heard this news, and it only got worse when the guild master of his caste gave him more bad news._

" _I'm not. This comes all the way from Zeta Prime. The races are shut down until further notice." Taskmaster slumped down in his chair. "Somethin' about a terrorist threat to the public…safety whatever, either way, we're done." That sentence alone took the wind from his sails, and now he actually looked a little sad. "Get out of here, will ya? You're making me feel bad."_

" _Come on, Blurr." Fastback pulled Blurr out of the office, both of them feeling more defeated than ever in their lives._

 _A few minutes later, Blurr made his way to the locker room, which was dark from all the lights being turned off. He never stayed here after hours, when it was cold and dark like this. It almost looked like a completely different place from the usual prep room he knew and loved. So many memories. Without the support crew and the other races mulling about, the room felt lifeless and dead. It was something he absolutely hated._

" _Blurr?"_

 _Blurr turned to see Piston walking out of the back room, bag in hand. "Hey? Um…" For once, Blurr actually felt guilty for not remembering his name._

" _Piston." The coach smiled. "It's okay, it doesn't matter."_

 _Blurr eyed the bag. "You're clearing out your things? You know the races might-"_

" _I don't care if they come back. It's not about the racing anymore." Piston said with a frown. He took out a datapad and handed it to Blurr. "Here, this is where I'm going."_

" _What the hell is this?"_

" _They're called the Autobots. They need our help. All of us."_

 _Blurr never realized how out of the loop he was until now in regards to the planet's current events. He felt really stupid asking, "The…what is this, some party thing?"_

" _Cybertron is changing, Blurr. Pretty soon, you'll need to choose a side." Piston told him. "These are the good guys. They're here to help."_

" _Listen, I don't need your help, okay? You or your little support groups." Blurr snapped. "The races might be over for now, but the parties aren't. Catch my drift?"_

 _Piston gave Blurr and infuriatingly pitying look that the former racer wanted to punch off his face. He patted Blurr on the shoulder before walking past him to the door. He gave no reprimands, no scoldings about his immaturity, only a parting that hit more than any righteous speech._

" _Good luck, Blurr."_

XXXXXX

Blurr was a confident mech who always had pride in his skills as a driver and a fighter, but it was missions like this that made his confidence wane.

Abraxan security forces had been investigating the manufacturing plant fire for nearly a year and everyone had come to the same conclusion: it was intentional. As for the list of possible suspects, it was a very short list, one with four names on it…and they were the four individuals now held up in an office building with a group of twenty hostages, multiple weapons and some fuel additive that they had taken from the factory before they had set it ablaze.

Blurr was no stranger to hostage situations; it happened on Cybertron and some of the other worlds he's served on. But he hated taking part in them, because even for someone with super speed like himself, time was always too short and lives rested on every second for him to act. Alpha Bravo wasn't keen on the Abraxan hostage crisis either, a sit widdled down to if they had to kill the four terrorists to save everyone in the building.

Blurr mulled over how they should go with this, and his scanners drifted upwards to Alpha Bravo's hecliopter mode. To Abraxan eyes and regular visual sensors, the pods mounted on the sides of the white aircraft were medical stretchers. But Blurr knew that they were just holographic projects-in reality, they were triple barreled missile pods loaded and ready to bare.

"Um, Alpha…that's a bit overkill, don't ya think?" Blurr asked.

Alpha Bravo was silent for half a minute before giving a terse reply. "I hope I never have to use them."

While the Autobots themselves maintained radio silence, Cpt. Miramond and Lt. Monz chattered nonstop as they coordinated with the other units. Alpha Bravo was sure to listen closely to the regulations and procedures his pilot threw around as she directed the rescue effort. Blurr just ignored the lieutenant's chatter. It didn't matter to him, as he was just going to be parked away from the action and watch everyone get involved. Sure, he found ways to get involved, but those were very rare occasions.

Cpt. Miramond monitored the situation and coordinated with the other units to get a visual on the hostage takers and their hostages. Luckily, if they were all holed up in one place, infiltration squads could start taking back the building floor by floor.

Unfortunately, luck was not on their side. Alpha Bravo hovered at an angle near the second floor window, allowing the captain to get a clear view inside. Each of the hostage takers had four hostages with them and they were all in different floors. She couldn't see where the last of them were.

"Control one here, are we sure its twenty hostages?"

Her radio buzzed for an instant and then a deep, rough voice came back through. " _That's confirmed. All twenty personnel in the Wesxliff office were grabbed, sir."_

"Then where are they?" She asked herself. "Alright, I want a team on the north side with heat vision equipment and on the south too. We're not going to make any movements until we find EVERYONE in that building. Has anyone tried to contact them for their demands?

Alpha Bravo didn't hear the answer. He was busy wracking his processor for that peculiar name-Wesxliff. Where had he heard that name before? From what he could recall, Quickshadow mentioned that name in a briefing about…

Oh scrap. "Blurr, we have to stop them!"

Blurr watched Lieutenant Monz try to clear a group of photographer and media personnel from a nearby alleyway. "Whoa, hold up, Aplha. I'm all for rushing in, but shouldn't we listen to their demands first?"

"They're not going to make any demands. This isn't some random building they happened to get cornered in on a heist. This is Wesxliff Industrial Trust." Alpha Bravo put emphasis on the name to show its importance.

The importance was lost on Blurr. "And what's that?"

"They're the owners of that chemical plant that burned up a few months ago." Alpha Bravo clarified.

"Hold up, that was Ghepsin Manufacturing Plant." Blurr corrected.

"And Ghepsin is a shell corporation owned by Wesxliff. If I'm correct, those terrorists are the facsimiles we're looking for. They're never going to trade those hostages." Alpha Bravo realized that the captiain had been yanking on the steering yolk, trying to get him to land. He complied. "They're going to blow up that building the same way they did the plant."

"I'd ask why, but…a lot of buildings were blown up on Cybertron for no good reason." Blurr started his engine, which alerted Lt. Monz. She turned and tried to run back to her car, but she didn't make it before the vhicel pulled away…she could have sworn the woman behind the wheel looked just like her. "But I have to ask…why?"

"Ever hear of Thorrinault?"

"Actually, yes."

"It's a very rare element found in only a few provinces. Most of these have made very lucrative deals with Wesxliff…and then went dry. But there were a few couple of hold outs. Providences with the highest estimated concentrations."

Blurr sped around a curb, lightly bouncing on his front axel before regaining his form. "The Cons snatched up those deposits and made it look like Wesxliff had done it. And now they think Wesxliff intruded upon their territory to secure Thorrinault without permission and now through some sort of provincial pride, they're trying to strike back…just the thing the Cons would do."

"Exactly. Agitate the already tense situation into an all-out conflict. This can escalate into a massacre if we're not careful."

"Good thing I'm fast enough then." Blurr quipped.

The blue Autobot masquerading as a police vehicle pulled up to an underground parking garage blow the office building. He quietly rolled into the tunnel, trying not to draw attention to himself.

'Please have a freight elevator, please have a freight elevator…' Blurr chanted in his mind. His wishful thinking did not pay off, as there was only an Abraxan-sized lift. Which was inoperable, probably due to the terrorists' tampering.

"The building has been cleared except for the bad guys as their hostages, right? And the first one is on the third floor?"

"Yup. You should be good." From his position on the ground, Alpha Bravo could just barely follow Blurr's movements throughout the building.

"Ahh! Son of a glitch!" Blurr gave a hiss, and then began grunting in exertion.

"What? What is it?"

Blurr's shoulders scrapped as he tried to turn up the next flight of stairs. The concrete cracked and moaned beneath him. "Ngh…they sure didn't make these stairs with Cybertronians in mind."

Alpha Bravo fought back a snicker. "You're coming up on the third floor. Try to be a little quieter?"

"Don't worry, I'll be quiet like a metallikato master." Blurr said. After a few minutes of silence, he gave a yell. "Slag, that's a low ceiling!"

This time, his airborne ally couldn't keep it down. Blurr let it go, promising to haze Alpha Bravo later on. He pushed open the door to Floor 3 and bent the doorframe to squeeze through. The effort made more noise than he wanted and the terrorist grabbed the closest Wesxliff worker to him, a middle aged man with glasses.

"Whoa, whoa, relax. I'm not going to hurt ya." Blurr held up his hands to show he was unharmed. Even still, his loud voice didn't help matters.

Both terrorist and hostage were trembling equally as Blurr towered over them. Even on his knees, his head crest was still pitting a hole in the ceiling above him. Through quivering lips, the terrorist managed to squeak out, "Wha-what are you?"

"Long story that I'm not interested in telling bro." Blurr's body glowed slight and in the blink of an eye, he was in front of the two Abraxans. Before the terrorist could do any harm, Blurr lightly finger flicked him hard enough to knock him into a table, knocking him out.

The terrified hostages stared at the terrorist then at Blurr. "He's not gonna be breathing well for a few days, but he'll be fine. As for the stairs…yeah, they're pretty messed up. As in they're literally falling apart. If you can make it out, by all means, try. If not, wait for the other crews to get here, okay?"

None of the hostages moved, they just kept staring at him. Blurr shrugged then climbed back through the stiras. "Okay. Staying here it is the."

The next two suspects went down about the same time. Only with a little less bumbling. After incapacitating the third one, Blurr got a call from Alpha Bravo. "I'm picking up a localized radio source. I think the head suspect is attempting to call his teammates. If they don't answer…scrap! Blurr, he's the one with th detonator!"

"I'm on my way." With a lurch, Blurr made his way for the stairs to the top floor, wincing as the staircase groaned from his weight.

"By the way," Alpha Bravo continued. "Did you find the other four hostages?"

Blurr went silent, pausing in his climb up the flight.

"Did you?"

"…You don't want to know." He finally said.

"Blurr, I…" Alpha Bravo wanted to console his friend, but now was not the time. "Get up there, now!"

Alpha Bravo watched as the last terrorist shouted loudly into the phone with the detonator in hand. He figured the man was on the line with negotiators.

Meanwhile, Blurr had forgone cautiousness and climbed the stairs faster. Perhaps too fast. The moorings that held the stairs started to buckle under his weight and cement cracked, metal bent and tore. It wasn't long before the stairs underneath him tumbled away. He cursed and jumped to grabbed the stairs in front of him, hanging by his fingertips.

"Alpha, I need an assist!"

"I'm on it." Captain Miramond had left Alpha Bravo's cockpit and was with the rest of the squad. He prepped his rotor and took off, hoping no one saw him.

His scanners flared to life as he reached the top floor and pinpointed the suspect. He also saw Blurr, who was pulling himself up from a hole in the stairway. The Autobot cut his engine, retracted his blades, and converted to robot mode as he dove straight for the window closest to the suspect with the detonator. Glass and metal debris flew across the room, causing the terrorist to shield himself. Tumbling out of control, Alpha Bravo made a grab for the detonator. He missed.

Despite the glass embedded in his skin and the confusion brought by a giant somersaulting robot, the head terrorist managed to keep a clear vision of his mission. Blurr had pulled himself up and used his super-speed just as the man pressed the button.

Four drums of Ghepsin fuel additive exploded and with it half the building was engulfed in a hellstorm of fire and gas. Alpha Bravo and Blurr were ejected by the explosion and plummeted from the building along with a cascade of falling concrete slabs and metal girders. The surviving hostages in the building weren't so lucky.

XXXXXX

 _Blurr walked down the quiet street, having to forgo his usual transport truck to walk the length of the way to the Circle. The walkway where fans would line up and climb over each other just to get a glimpse of his face was empty, depressingly so._

' _What the hell is this?' Blurr thought, his footsteps tapping against the cold metallic ground as he entered the once vibrant club. Just like the block and the rest of the sector, the club was empty and quiet. No music, no dancing, no party drunk bots. Just the bartender looking as depressed as he felt, cleaning glasses aimlessly. Blurr frowned and walked over to the counter._

" _This place still dead?" He asked._

" _It's a war zone out there. Haven't you noticed?" The barkeep said. He made to pour Blurr a glass of Fulcrum, but the racer stopped him._

" _Just give me the bottle." Blurr said. He wanted to be passed out before the sun came up._

" _Knockout yourself out."_

 _Blur took his bottle over to a booth and plopped himself into a booth. Taking a deep swig of his drink, he glanced around at the other three bots that were sitting in other parts of the club, two of them passed out, another still working on joining them. Blurr eyed the simultronic machine next to him. He hated the thought of living in some fantasy world, as he knew it was all fake, but it was preferable to living a half-life in this hell. His whole life was racing, the speed, the pacing, it was all so wonderful. He'd give anything to feel that rush again. Even for a few minutes._

 _Blurr reached out for the jack-in plug, but a voice stopped him. "Now why would you want to do that?"_

 _He turned to the speaker, a dark purple and teal femme with wings on her back and a dark, magnetic gaze. He recognized her frame from one of his fans-a Seeker. She invited herself to sit across from him giving Blurr a slithery smirk._

" _I always felt that was the providence of the weak, not the strong." She continued._

" _Who are you?" Blurr asked._

" _A friend." The Seeker grinned. "Tell me, have you really felt remorse? Loss?"_

" _Huh?"_

" _Let me put it this way, how much do you really care about those around you?"_

" _If this is another conversation about how cold and arrogant I am, I've heard it all before." He spat and took another long drink._

" _From people scared of your gifts, no doubt." She said. "Believe me when I tell you, I understand you better than anyone you've ever known. For example, what do you really care about?"_

 _Blurr didn't even need to think of an answer. "Racing."_

" _Just the racing?"_

" _No." Blurr looked at his hands. "The crowds. When I can feel them behind me. The lights. The roar. And that one moment, that one single moment, when I know what I'm doing really matters."_

" _Power. Its power you care about. Power over the crowd. Power over those around you." The femme leaned forward to look directly into his eyes. What we believe is simple. You're superior to everyone around you. I represent a group that exists to bring freedom to those like yourself."_

 _She slid a datapad over to Blurr with a distinct purple insignia on the front. "My group could really use someone with your gifts, Blurr. Someone with your clarity." She told him. "Freedom from a regime that seeks to deprive us of what we truly deserve. One that took away your dream-"_

" _Wait a minute." He cut her off. "You're…one of those Autobots!"_

 _Slipstream smiled as if he said something cute. "No, Blurr, we're something stronger." She stood up and walked to the doors. "All those races. All those victories, and you still felt hollow, don't you? Rule…or serve. You'll know what to do."_

XXXXXX

"I don't understand. The engine was fine just a few weeks ago, but as soon as you get called for a mission…total burnout." Misha leaned against Blurr's open hood. Everything looked exactly as it should. Or better considering the maintenance time that she put into their vehicles.

Lori sauntered up behind her and rested her chin on Misha's shoulder. The lieutenant pretended to study the twisting wires, pipes and valves of the engine. "Oh…I see what's going on here…"

"You do?" Misha craned her neck to face Lori's, a look of surprise on the captain's face.

Lori nodded, her chin still resting on the captain's shoulder. "It's not the engine that's stalling…you are. For your date."

Captain Misha stepped away from Lori and slumped her shoulders. "But I don't want to! It's going to be terrible."

"No, it's not." Lori smiled. "You're going to have a great time."

"Fine." Misha rolled her dark brown eyes. "But I'm wearing this."

"Your overalls? Hey, if it were me, that would be fine. You don't have to impress." Lori gave her friend a once over. "But let's get you in a shower and find you something nice to wear."

"Ugh…why?"

"Because…" The lieutenant dipped her fingers into an open jar and then dabbed the black viscous substance onto Misha's cheeks. "…you have grease on your face."

The captain let out an exaggerated huff. Then she let a smile slither across her face. "Alright. If we're going to do this, let's do it before I change my mind."

Alpha Bravo's sensors followed the Abraxan partners as they left the hangar. Then he turned his attention to Blurr. The blue Autobot sat motionless as a car, refusing to break the silence of the now empty station house. Alpha Bravo shifted to robot mode and ambled over to the garage in which Blurr was resting.

"When are those two going to learn that they're only happy together?" He questioned conversationally.

Blurr didn't answer.

"Hey, look…" Alpha Bravo started with the most compassionate tone he could muster. "…It's been six months now. What happened was an absolute tragedy, but we're all getting over it. I mean; the captain on a date! Who would've ever thought that after her-"

Blurr's muttered, sullen voice cut Alpha Bravo off. "But none of you were responsible. I had the power to stop it. I had one chance and I blew it. If only I was just a bit faster…" His voice caught as he trailed off.

"You don't get to blame yourself, Blurr." Alpha Bravo's tone was stern but sympathetic. "You weren't the one who missed the detonator when he grabbed for it…but neither of us pressed the button."

Blurr's wheels turned a bit at that. Alpha Bravo had much more to be sorry for that he. If he felt bad, Primus knows how Alpha Bravo was dealing with it these past few months.

The flyer lightly kicked the side of the car. "Transform and let's talk you through this. You're just shell-shocked; I've seen if dozens of times before. You have to face it and show it you're not going to let it win. You will, I know you. Just know that I'm here for you, bro. and so is everyone else."

Blurr transformed and sat on the platform with Alpha Bravo. They sat together in silence for a while before a small smile spread across Blurr's face. He lightly punched Alpha Bravo in the shoulder, muttering, "Thanks."

"Anytime, Blurr."

"So…" Blurr said after a while. "How long do you think Misha's gonna be on her date before she bows out?"

XXXXXX

 _Blurr stayed at the Circle for most of the night thinking on Slipstream's words and staring at the Decepticon symbol on the datapad he had yet to open. What exactly did he care about? He had no Spark siblings to speak of, no real friends, and his only source of entertainment, racing, was now a dud._

 _He heard of some underground racing circuits that run from Altihex to Yuss and some extreme off-roading events in Sistex, but they were sketchy at best. Blurr just wanted to race; none of that sabotage or cheating slag that took up most of those illegal races. Winning wasn't fun when you cheated like a scrub._

 _And this whole thing going on between the Autobots and Decepticons. He heard about the growing conflict between the factions, but he could've cared less about some boring political dispute. Except it wasn't just all talking-guns were involved, bombings, black market dealings, killing. Fighting so bad that the entire race circuit was closed down. Blurr had no illusions about joining some revolution, he was no fighter, but he needed something to do to take the agitation off._

 _He didn't leave the club until it was sunrise. He winced and held a hand over his eyes to block the first rays of light peaking over the buildings. 'Thank Primus I didn't go heavy on the Fulcrum.' Blurr thought. 'Maybe I should've drank something heavier to block out all this slag.'_

 _He transformed and sped down the mostly empty street, paying no heed to the few cars driving down the road. He had no idea what he was going to do today; maybe try to do some pity races around the track with the only two buddies he had left._

 _As he drove around a sharp curb with grace even Knockout would be jealous of, the street in front of him suddenly exploded. Blurr instinctively transformed and hit the pavement hard. He coughed and tried to stand up, only for someone to shove his head down._

" _Stay low!" Ironhide shouted, firing his fission cannons at the Decepticons shooting at him down the street. As a few more Autobots came to give him cover fire, he dragged Blurr off the street and into a building being used as a makeshift outpost._

" _Just my fragging luck!" Blurr growled. He ducked as a pulse blast shot over his head. "Damn it all!"_

 _Blurr looked around and saw two bodies near him. He had paid them no mind as he tried to avoid getting gunned down by the intense shoot out (and he couldn't bring himself to look at two dead bodies at a time like this), but once the Cons were driven off and the excitement died down, Blurr managed to a good look at the bodies. It was Piston, dead for some time now, with a scorched blast hole in his chest. He probably died instantly from that shot._

 _Blurr must've started at the body for a long time as one of the Autobots, an average looking red and blue mech name Orion Pax, went to check up on him._

" _Friend of yours?" He asked._

" _His name was Piston." Blurr said duly, not taking his eyes off the body._

" _I know. I met him once, briefly." Orion shook his head. "It's a tragedy. This kind of thing is becoming dangerously common in major cities these days."_

 _Blurr snorted. Orion studied his features._

" _You're a racer, aren't you?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _I've met some of your kind. You're a 'special breed'."_

" _Enough. Enough!" Blurr yelled. "I've had t with people telling me who and what I am!"_

" _Hmph," Kup grunted. "You're wasting your time, kid. This one's just a pampered, arrogant little upstart."_

" _What would you know you old relic?" The racer growled._

 _Orion pushed Kup back before the old mech went 'revolutionary' on Blurr. "A lot actually. But in this case, he's wrong. At least partially," Orion said. "To those around you, you might seem abrupt, arrogant. But that's just a byproduct of your gift. You're able to process life and death decisions at lightning speed. I admit, I'm quite envious of your confidence. Your kind rarely shows hesitation."_

" _Oh yeah? I'm so wonderful? Tell that to Piston, tell that to all the others ignored." Blurr hissed._

 _Orion was unaffected by Blurr's anger, knowing that he was only venting the built up frustration and grief within him. "It's only arrogance if that strength and focus of yours is turned inwards."_

" _Pax, move your tailpipe. We've got to find a way to save Prime!" Kup said._

" _I have," Orion replied and looked at Blurr. "That group of Decepticons we were fighting were an assassination team. Their target is Zeta Prime."_

 _Blurr sighed and turned away. "This isn't my fight."_

" _Transmissions between here and Iacon have been disabled. They have a powerful mech on their side, an outlier, like you." Pax continued, earning a surprised look from Blurr. "We'll try to get there to warn her, of course, but we'll fail. None of us are fast enough."_

" _Makes no different to me."_

" _Stay out of if and you'll get to keep your old life, is that what you're thinking?"_

 _The light scolding in Pax's tone irritated Blurr. "I like my old life!"_

" _Do you?" Orion asked. "Cybertron's golden age and we're dying a slow death. We're lost and they're taking advantage of it."_

 _Seeing that Blurr wasn't going to budge, Orion tried a different approach. "All those times in the stadium, was it the victories that kept you going? Or was it the chance to constantly inspire others to strive for more? You can still be that inspiration, Blurr."_

 _Blurr closed his eyes for a minute before glancing at Orion. "What are you?"_

" _Just a soldier," Orion answered. "Like you."_

 _Blurr looked back down at Piston's body and closed his eyes again. He started to grasp at that faint ember within his Spark, a power that he rarely used since he began racing all those stellar cycles ago. The gift…of speed._

 _His body was encased in a blue glow, and in the blink of an eye he was gone, with barely an afterimage in his wake._

XXXXXX

Speed was what Blurr called his power. Not very flashy, yes, but it was hard to describe it as anything else. As an outlier, he was born with a special power, a quirk in his design born from his Spark upon being forged as scientists would label it these days. His power, Speed, allowed him to move at hyperspeed, becoming a literal blur as his physical and mental speed increased. He discovered this power during a practice race, which almost resulted in him crashing through a wall. Luckily no one saw him do it, or his racing career would've been over on fake allegations of cheating. Even in Zeta Prime's reign, outliers were still looked at with suspicion.

He never used his power to win a race, as he was good enough without it. In fact, that day he met Orion Pax was the first time he used it. The only setback was that his energy reserves took a nosedive after using Speed for prolonged periods, so he had to use it sparingly. It came in handy when performing hit and run operations on Decepticon installations. No one could catch him, no one could see him. He was untouchable.

Since joining the Autobots, he used this power of his not only to fight Cons, but also save lives. He rescued many Autobots and organics from the jaws of death with his Speed, and it made him feel useful. Like he had a reason for living. But missions like that failed Abraxan hostage operation would teach him that he couldn't save everyone, even with his Speed.

Thanks for that pep talk from Alpha Bravo, Blurr had gotten out of his slump in about a month, though it still hurt. It was rare for someone to die on his watch, but when it did, it hit him like a Metrotitan. It was hard not being able to save people with his power, but Blurr was always able to keep moving forward. His friends made sure to keep his head in the game and focus on the long term. Besides, things were starting to look up with Lieutenant Lori and Captain Misha started dating in the months that followed, and he starting making bets with Alpha Bravo and Heat Wave on who was going to pop the question (Blurr figured his chances were high since Lori was already looking at engagement rings in secret).

As for the Abraxan operation, they were getting close to finding their Cons. Quickshadow and Chase had found a solid lead on an arms dealer trying to sell hybrid Abraxan/Cybertronian weapons to terrorists planning on hitting another Wexsliff facility. And once they caught the facsimiles causing the situation to escalate, it was only a matter of time before they were hot on the trail of the Decepticon cell. And when they finally located the command bunker…

"OPEN FIRE!"

All hell broke loose. The Decepticons were stationed in a bunker sitting in the middle of an abandoned quarry, using the local materials to power their small energon production plant. Quickshadow had Alpha Bravo scout the area, and once he gave the confirmation, she ordered a frontal assault on the bunker. It led to the quarry being turned into a hellish battlefield.

"Press forward, Autobots, we got them!" Quickshadow yelled, firing her rotary cannon at a pair of enemy choppers pelting them with anti-material rounds.

"We hear ya, Quickshadow, good grief!" Heat Wave grunted. He had to lower his comm's volume to avoid going deaf from her mighty war cries.

"She's certainly spirited, today, isn't she?" Alpha Bravo noted. He hovered over the battlefield, firing missiles at ground units while Medix took care of the enemy choppers.

"Considering how much trouble these fragheads were giving us for nearly two years, I don't blame her." Blurr said. He ducked under a missile and threw a grenade at the person that tried to head shot him. The shooter wasn't in existence anymore two seconds later.

"Quit yapping, Blurr and take 'em out!" Quickshadow demanded.

'And there's my cue!' Blurr smirked and took a step forward before disappearing. To those around him, Blurr turned into a blue streak of light zooming through the quarry, but to him, the world slowed to a crawl. He ran over the enemy barricades and destroyed the automated ion cannons mounted along the bunker's perimeter before moving onto the Cons. There were seven left after Quickshadow's preliminary attack scorched the bulk of their main forces with an overhead strike. Blurr gave each bot a solid punch to the face and chest, which, while not powerful at high speed, would translate to a strong blow in real space. It felt slow to him, but all this action was taking place within the span of a few seconds. When Blurr switched off his Speed and slid to a stop, everything returned to normal.

"What the-?" The Decepticon unit commander's shock was total as he and his six subordinates were thrown off their feet and flew in different directions from the delayed punches. The gun turrets exploded and the Autobots quickly moved in for the kill. Quickshadow, Heat Wave, Boulder and Chase charged the bunker and cuffed the surviving Cons.

"That's all she wrote." Blurr smirked.

"Nice job, Blurr." Quickshadow said. "Now let's call in a shuttle and-"

The bunker doors were blasted open and a sleek silver femme jumped out, hefting a cannon nearly as big as her on her shoulder. She fired a scattershot blast at the Autobots that blew them back with a layer of explosions peppering the ground. Quickshadow took hit to the chest and fell back into Blurr as the Con tossed the cannon away and converted to vehicle mode, speeding out of the quarry.

"We have another Decepticon on the run!" Alpha Bravo exclaimed. He fired two missiles at the fleeing femme, but she was too fast and was already zooming out of the quarry. "She's in the forest!"

"Alpha, keep an eye on her. Blurr, you go after her," Medix said as she checked Quickshadow over. "We can handle things here."

Blurr nodded and transformed to car mode, racing out from view like a lightning bolt.

XXXXXX

Alpha Bravo was already pursuing the Con into the surrounding forest. He tracked the femme's tire tracks until he lost visual on her because of the tree tops. Alpha Bravo lowered himself until he was just above the canopy, doing a grid scan of the area to find her.

' _Alpha, did you find her_?' Heat Wave asked.

"No, I lost sight of her in the trees. I'm scanning for thermals now." Alpha Bravo answered. He slowly advanced over the tree tops, keeping his sensors alert and constantly scanning the immediate area…but he was still caught off guard when an invisible pulse wave hit his fuselage. "Slag!"

He lost control and spiraled down into the forest, crashing through numerous branches before hitting the ground. He reverted forms and rolled onto his back, kicking up dirt and plants as he came to a stop. "Ow, what hit me?"

"That was an EMP blast sucka!"

A flash of silver zoomed past Alpha Bravo's eyes and a foot planted itself in his cheek, knocking him back. He took out his Gatling gun and fired at his attacker, but a laser bolt hit him from behind. A second later, his gun was kicked from his hand and he was staring into the barrel of a plasma rifle.

"How'd you like that?" The Decepticon named Arcus laughed. Alpha Bravo studied the femme, who was dark silver with black along her forearms and thighs, with wings on her back and three tiny horns on her head, and wondered how she was able to move so quickly. "I see the look on your face, soldier boy. Wonderin' how a tiny femme like me was able to move like thunder? Here's the answer."

Arcus held up a tiny red crystal in her dainty fingers, and Alpha Bravo immediately recognized it; red energon. A modified form of energon that grants the user hyperspeed not unlike Blurr's abitliy. Once consumed, even the bulkiest of bots could move at the speed of a photon charge, though since it was notoriously difficult to make due to its rather energy-consuming need during production, red energon was very scarce in most regions of the war. But how was she able to get a hold of it.

"If yer wonderin' where I got this from, well, let's sat this planet has some pretty kick ass resources to play with. Those chemicals from that Wesxliff joint work well with energon, and here we are." Arcus bragged.

'That's right girl, keep talking.' Alpha Bravo thought, pressing his Autobot symbol. 'You're just making my job easier.'

"But here's the thing, fly boy-your friends just screwed up my operation on this planet, and lost me a lot of money. As sorry for your slag, you're gonna tell me where your ship is so I can high tail it off this rock."

"Right," Alpha Bravo said. "And why should I do that willingly?"

Arcus popped the red eneron into her mouth and pointed her rifle at Alpha Bravo's head. "I wasn't askin' fly boy. Tell me where your ship is and I won't blow you head off!"

"Go ahead, try it." He dared. "You won't get a chance to pull the trigger."

Arcus sneered and shoved the gun into his head. But before she could blast his head off, a blue streak rammed into her and threw her to the ground. Blurr appeared in front of Alpha Bravo and helped him to his feet.

"You alright, Alpha?" He asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks for the save." Alpha Bravo breathed. "I was getting nervous there for a sec."

"Go back and help the others secure the base. I've got this poser."

Sure," Alpha Bravo nodded. "Knock her dead, Blurr."

He ran deeper into the forest for some clearance to transform and slowly ascended into the air. Arcus wasn't happy about this. "You ain't goin' nowhere, fly boy!" She went to shoo him down, but Blurr slammed into her and she hit the ground again.

"You want him? You'll have to get through me!" Blurr growled.

Arcus cursed and charged at Blurr, leaving afterimages in her wake. Blurr did the same and the two bots vanished, turning into different streaks of light that weaved through the trees, hitting each other at the speed of light. Though they were too fast for the naked eye to see, sparks would fly from where they were land hits on each other, and energon would splatter on the ground from wounds.

Blurr was at a slight disadvantage here, unable to use his usual tactics of hit and run against larger opponents. He learned much of his fighting style from Jazz, using his speed to his advantage and overwhelming them before they had a chance to fight back. But Arcus was moving at the same speed as him and was just as hard to catch.

But there was one thing that Arcus didn't have on her-weapons. Aside from that cannon and rifle, she didn't take any other weapons with her, let along any melee weapons. Blurr still had his vibro-blades with him, and he used them to great effect. Whenever they clashed, Blurr would leave deep cuts on Arcus's armor, stabbing just deep enough to draw energon. Whenever she tried to hit him, he dodged and landed a punch or kick that threw her off balance. These blows served to anger her and made her more determined to catch him.

This led to another flaw-red energon was not permanent. The more she used it, the faster the effects wore off. Arcus knew this, but in her haste to kill the azure outlier, it slipped her mind until it was too late. It was when Arcus stopped leaving afterimages in her wake that Blurr went in for the kill.

' _What do you really care about?'_

Arcus, realizing that her secret weapon was starting to fade, transformed into a cybertronian VTOL and fired two missiles at her as fast as she could. To Blurr, the missiles couldn't have been any slower.

' _Racing.'_

Blurr rushed at Arcus and stabbed his blades into her wings, cutting through the air filters and causing her to wobble in the air. He jumped off when she transformed and came at him in a blind rage.

' _Just the racing?'_

' _No.'_

The red energon wore off by the minute as Arcus expended more and more energy trying to best Blurr, who was still running on a full tank. He easily avoided her strikes and dealt more damage to her, that her on him. When she realized that she was reaching critical levels of damage, Arcus jumped back and took out a phase grenade and threw it at Blurr.

' _The crowds. When I can feel them behind me. The lights. The roar.'_

Blurr caught the grenade, which was set for three seconds, and sprinted at Arcus. Two seconds passed as he closed the distant and shoved the bomb into her mouth. "This is for all the lives you took, Decepticon. Say hi to them for me on your way to hell."

He kicked her away and jumped back just as the grenade detonated. Arcus was gone in a cloud of flames and smoke that obscured most of her gory demise, leaving a deep crater in the ground. Bits of dirt and metal rained down on the area, with just a few pieces of scraps left of the psychotic Con.

"Yo, boss girl, you okay?" Blurr called.

" _Blurr? Did you get that bastard?"_ Quickshadow asked.

"Damn straight. She's lying all over the forest floor right now." Blurr smiled. "It's over."

Turning back to the direction of the quarry, Blurr ran forward and turning into a blue streak of azure light that skillfully weaved through the trees to avoid them, his smirk unseen by the local wildlife as he ran back to his team.

' _And at that one moment…that one single moment when I know what I'm doing really matters.'_


	9. Looking Back

Chapter 8-Looking Back

Rodimus saw himself as a very intelligent mech, somewhere along the lines of braniacs like Perceptor and Brainstorm. But there were some words he just didn't understand. Words like "It can't be done" or "That's impossible". Phrases he generally ignored because they were total mood killer. He liked to be optimistic, run into his problems with a cocky grin to piss off his enemies and naysayers alike.

It's just like the mission he was taking at the moment. A lot of people said that he couldn't infiltrate this Decepticon lunar base. They said there's no way he should be able to make it down to the surface of this moon without being detected and shot out of the sky. But as Rodimus told them, "There's always a way, and the more downright insane it seems, the less anyone will be expecting it!"

Like meteor surfing.

His "master plan" was to enter the moon's orbit with a meteor shower masking his biosignature. It was a dangerous thing to do that could've end up with him turning into a smoldering wreck falling to the ground as an unrecognizable ball of slag. It was only thanks to his inherent resistance to heat that he was still alive right now, balancing on a small meteor that was slowly burning away under his feet. A mad grin was on his face as he broke through the atmosphere, counting down to that second long window when the real fun began. When he reached a certain altitude, Rodimus jumped off the meteor and went into freefall.

He could feel the intense heat engulfing his body as gravity dragged him into the moon's clutches, but he didn't feel any pain. He shutdown all but the most essential bio-systems, and as far as the Cons on the ground were concerned, he was just another piece of space debris. He avoided any early warning systems, and his superstructure absorbed the intense heat into his body to be stored for later.

It was a rush! Falling at nearly 200 mph with no protection, his senses dampened and on the verge of being annihilated by AA-guns. There was something about staring death in the face, tip-toeing the line between life and death that sent a person, no matter what race, on an adrenaline rush. Rodimus had his fair share of risky moments in the past, but none of them were as life threateningly stupid as this.

Blind and deaf, Rodimus had no idea if it was time to perform his landing maneuver, so he left it up to chance. Once the heat of his entry faded and his body began to cool, he waited another fifteen minutes before curling into a ball and generating a null field to lessen the impact.

The ground shook and a cloud of dust shot into the air as the red and orange Autobot hit the earth with tremendous force. Debris flew everywhere and when the smoke cleared, Rodimus was laying at the bottom of a crater 3 feet deep, flirting with critical systems shock and dropping in and out of consciousness. Granted, considering he could've been smashed to pieces upon impact, this was the more favorable outcome. But then something else happened. Rodimus's mind began to drift back to the past as his body slowly repaired itself. Back to the reason he was running this dangerous solo mission in the first place.

Back to his first mistake as a leader.

XXXXXX

 **Argos, 50 years ago**

 _It was his first time in overall charge of a tactical unit. Rodimus and his team drove through the arid, sandy environment of a distant planet called Argos, which was once home to a primitive civilization until close proximity to its sun caused a global drought that killed off all life on its surface. There was nothing particularly special about the planet itself or its inhabitants…at least, until the Autobots learned of a strange artifact within the natives' possession that may still be intact after the indigenous species' fall._

 _They drove through tornado ridden crags and canyons with rough grains of sand pelting their mechanical forms at speeds that would strip the skin from organic travelers. Even their reinforced tyres had a difficult time weathering the clouds of grit hitting them. But the team pushed through, most of them having been through worse conditions than a heavy sandstorm._

" _Distance?" Rodimus asked._

" _A klik, maybe. Conditions are playing merry hell with instrumentation." Backbeat said._

" _Guess that's why no one bothers to monitor this vector." Gizmo quipped. "You wouldn't get a reading worth slag, and besides, no one in their right mind would attempt a crossing."_

" _Except us." Said Dealer._

" _Hold it!" Rodimus ordered. "Everyone switch to voice-comm!"_

 _Setting their audio to internal comm channels, Rodimus went into robot mode and gazed at their destination-the Omega Bunker. It was an ancient temple made of hard stone built two centuries ago. It looked like a small pyramid with cylindrical pillars surrounding it and ominous looking statues dotted along the perimeter. They looked normal, if a bit odd looking with their strange mix of bestial features, but for a group of cybertronians, they knew better than to take things at face value, as appearances can be deceiving._

 _Rodimus checked his datapad. "Right. Bore Drones 1 and 2 are in position. Let's get to work. Gizmo?"_

" _I'll have the holomatter projector up and running in just a few nano-kliks." Gizmo said, already digging into the tough rock to make a hole deep enough to plant the projector._

" _Backbeat?"_

" _Setting low-yield charges." Backbeat planted two explosives near the foot of the stairs. "Timers are synched with Gizmo's holo-program."_

" _Dealer?"_

 _Dealer set up the transmission box and plugged in the receiver dish. "Dropship uplink aligned and locked. Have Bore Drone 3 lock onto my position and backtrack."_

 _Rodimus entered the command into his datapad and nodded. "Acknowledged."_

 _Download, the team's munition's expert and heavy hitter, eyed the statues warily. They had to be about two dozen of them in all, standing a foot above the 16 foot Rodimus's head. They were shaped like birds, with smooth featherless wings and chiseled humanoid faces of a feminine quality._

" _These things give me the creeps. Download muttered. "These are the Guardians, right?"_

" _Right," Rodimus nodded. "We don't know much about them, just that they're very old, probably left behind by whatever race built that temple. And they'll defend the Magnificence with every bit of lethal force they possess. Which, by the way, is considerable."_

 _The bore drone emerged from underground, spraying dirt and rocks everywhere. Rodimus coughed and turned the drone off._

" _The trick therefore is to get this don clean, in and out without a firefight." Rodimus turned back to Download and grinned. "Okay, people! It's showtime!"_

XXXXXX

Rodimus could still remember how he was so full of zeal. Gung-ho to the max. Eager to prove his worth to high command and possibly move up in the ranks like Thunderclash. Was that what got them killed? His unchecked enthusiasm? His borderline arrogance?

"Come on, Rodimus," He slapped his flexi-steel cheeks to focus. "You gotta keep your eye on the prize."

After taking a few seconds to properly realign his systems after recovering from that ungodly fall, he gathered himself and traveled about a mile in car form before stopping on the outskirts of a massive artificial crater dug into the moon. And inside the crater was the place he was trying to enter-the Deception penal colony, Lethe.

Lethe had a reputation just a few pots lower than that of the infamous Grindore prison camp in terms of hellish prisoner treatment. It was one of the harshest, most punishing prison camps and the life expectancy of its prisoners was not high. That's not to talk about its suicide rate. It was also said to be impregnable-which just happened to be one of the many words that were not a part of his vocabulary.

The prison was built inside one of the moon's larger craters. Infiltration via underground tunneling was impossible as not only was the moon's natural composition extremely dense, but the prison's walls and floors were made of an extremely tough composite metal that would take ages to drill or blast through. But that didn't stop Rodimus, who thought long and hard on how to get in.

He stepped up to one of the cliffs overlooking the prison and fired a small device at the roof of the watch tower. The jammer bug attached itself to the roof and did its job-which was to disrupt the security feed momentarily.

"Blast." Snare grumbled as one of the cameras shorted out. Couldn't he have some private time in peace? "Survey one, I have a defective vid-link in the northeast loop." He saw an alert pop up in another monitor. "And…an alarm in sector zero…in the refuse compactor?!" Another monitor shorted out. "No, wait. Scratch that first one. Northeast lop is clear, but I now have no visual for aisle nineteen, north. What the hell is going on here?"

As the viral carrier wave has the Decepticons scratching their heads and running for a loop, Rodimus made his move. He leapt over the wall and landed in the courtyard, carefully timing his steps sp that he avoided the cameras and patrols walking by. As soon as he sees the guards and troubleshooters get split up in different directions, Rodimus sprinted towards the ventilation shaft.

He hopped inside and crawled through the shaft underneath the floor panels, beginning the meticulous work of crawling on his back under the feet of nearly a hundred and fifty Cons with nothing but a foot of metal between them and him. He ignored the hard gravel digging into his back as he navigated through the facility, counting which cell block he was passing under.

'Cellblock Z-lateral.' Rodimus told himself. 'Right…here!' He unclipped his laser cutter from his index finger and began cutting a hole through the floor panel. Rodimus knew he was close. He just had to take it slow. 'I'm coming buddy. Just hold on.'

XXXXXX

 _Gizmo activated the holo-projector and called it in. "The projector's running! We are in the tube!"_

" _Some of us more than others." Rodimus grumbled. He and Download were crouching through the tunnel the Bore Drone made earlier under the temple. "The Guardians?"_

 _Back on the surface, Gizmo and the others watched the Holomatter avatars approach the first group of statues. Backtrack set up the charges to simulate the effect of blasters being fired and not even a second before the first one went off before the statues began to move._

" _They're on the move!" Backtrack said. "And it looks like these guys are packing some serious heat!"_

 _The bird-like statues trembled as their stone coverings fell away to reveal pristine, unscathed limestone underneath, gold and sapphire, humanoid faces cold as their eyes glowed a deep emerald. Dealer actually yelped as they shot into the air like jets and flew in formation around the temple before diving towards the simulcrons._

" _I've switched the program to a responsive sub-routine. Which means when fired upon, the simulcrons will take realistic evasive action." Gizmo said. "But, by the same token, if they're hit, they're gone."_

 _The guardians swooped down on the fake Autobots and fired powerful photon beams from their mouths, littering the temple grounds with explosions. The assault was so great that Rodimus and Download could feel the tremors inside the temple._

" _Those things are no joke." Rodimus whistled. That kind of firepower could wipe us out in a Sparkpluse."_

 _Rodimus grinned as he reached the end of the tunnel and climbed out of the hole, helping Download out behind him. "We've reached the inner chamber, Download. Time to do your thing."_

 _Download looked around in awe at the inner chamber they were in. It was large, with four entrances to halls on each side of the room. In the center of the chamber was a giant green energy sphere with four humanoid statues bowing low to the ground around it. Inside the orb was a crystal ball no bigger than his palm with ruby and onyx gems embedded in its surface. This was what they came here for-the Magnificence._

" _I've never seen something so…well, magnificent." Download said. He pointed his signal disruptor at the energy field and switched it on, firing a polarity beam to disrupt the sphere's integrity. As he did this, Download began to feel increasingly apprehensive. Just the atmosphere of this place felt…sacred in a way and he couldn't help but feel like he was intruding on someplace he wasn't supposed to be. "Rodimus, this feels so wrong. I just…can't…"_

" _Thing is, the Decepticons can, and according to our intel, will." Rodimus said sternly and pointed at the Magnificence. "And if the Magnificence truly is some kind of all-seeing oracle, they'll have a roadmap to everything exploitable in the entire universe. Our job…is to keep it from temptation."_

 _Download sighed. "Right…yeah. Sorry. Here goes…"_

 _He fired the disruption beam and began the slow process of destabilizing the energy field. Rodimus stood to the side, tapping his foot anxiously, plagued by a foreboding sense of dread that was slowly creeping up on him ever since he entered this chamber._

" _Rodimus!" Gizmo's voice yelled in the mech's audio receptor. "The holomatter generator, it's-"_

 _There was a loud explosion in the background that brought Rodimus's fears to life. "Gizmo?"_

" _I'm okay, but the generator's totaled!" Gizmo shouted._

 _Outside, he stood over the remains of the device, the only thing keeping the guardians from ripping them to shreds. He looked up and saw the flock of guardians glaring down at him with clear, milky pearl eyes. "We've been noticed!"_

 _Rodimus gave a loud curse and tried to keep his panic at bay. He remembered his training to stay calm in situations like this, thinking back to Kup's lectures on remaining calm and focusing on the mission. "Gizmo? Gizmo! Abort, I repeat, abort! Fall back to the evac position now!"_

 _Download grinned as the containment field began to fizzle out and die like a short-circuited fuse. "Rodimus, the field is gone!"_

 _Rodimus spun around and cursed again when he saw four tall bipedal statues emerge from hidden chambers within the walls. They were made of smooth, white marble, with the same cold, cherubic faces the guardians had. And they all converged on Download._

" _Download, watch out!"_

 _He barely finished yelling his warning before Download was blown apart by four photon beams fired from the four statues at point blank range, blasting the Autobot apart and killing him instantly._

XXXXXX

The echoes of Download's short-lived dying screams were mercifully drowned out by the cacophony of the Lethe klaxon alarms, as on cue the virus pops open every cell door in the containment blocks. Of course, this set off warning bells in every Decepticon's head, and they wasted no time in initiating standard procedure-evacuating all high ranking officers to a secure orbital relay platform. Ironically, the number of prisoners were greater than that of their wardens and the security bots, so no one wanted to be around when they revolted during this very unpleasant system malfunction. Then again, even if the prisoners broke out, there was nowhere to go without a ship. Basically, the top brass gets the hell out of dodge and called for a clean-up squad. Aka, his ticket off this rock!

Once he finally burned his way into the prison block, Rodimus immediately activated his holomatter generator to form a disguise. His orange and red armor morphed into a jagged mix of blacka nd blue. His features changed into that of a normal looking Decepticon, one you wouldn't pay any attention to upon first glance.

'Showtime.' He thought nervously, and entered the prison block.

Z-lateral was quiet, too quiet…deathly quiet. The lights were an ominous blood red, the walls and floor were dirty with rust and dried oil, and the entire place just gave the disguised Autobot the shivers. Shouldn't there be an army of enraged prisoners running amuck by now?

'Either they are unaware that this is something more than a routine inspection,' Rodimus said to himself. 'Or the occupants are just too weak and broken to move.'

Rodimus tried his best not to think about whom else was within these cells. Who else he could save. As he slowly walked through the halls, he focused solely on the one team member who survived. The one mech who was kept alive and tortured in this hell for years. Rodimus had spent a lot of resources to find his partner.

'I'd left him behind on Argos, abandoned him to those monsters.' Rodimus walked up to the cell near the end of the hall and glanced inside. 'I'm bringing him home. No matter what!'

He looked inside and saw a mech huddled up in the corner, his armor rusty and flaked, smelling of dak oil and fluids. He looked like a hollowed mechanoid skeleton than a cybertronian. But Rodimus recognized the thin, battered face of his old friend.

"Dealer?"

XXXXXX

" _Dealer? Dealer, what's your status?' Rodimus called out; avoiding the white photon beams the sentries were fired at him as they pursued him through the hall. He had the Magnificence tucked under his arm and held to his chest to keep it safe. "I have the objective. If you're able, get yourself out of there!"_

" _Rodimus? Rodimus!" Dealer's panicked voice almost made Rodimus falter. He could hear blaster fire in the background. "I'm pinned down! Decepticons, an attack squad…before I knew it, they were right on top of me! Rodimus, help!"_

 _Rodimus skidded to a stop at a fork in the tunnel. One led back to the surface where the others were and the other led to an area far from the hot zone. He could easily rush back to save Dealer, but that t would put the objective at risk of falling into enemy hand. And that was not an option he could afford._

" _Dealer…I can't," He closed his eyes and forced himself to ignore his friend's screams. "I'm sorry."_

 _There were details for the mission only privy to Rodimus and were strictly "optics only". He had a backup exit installed by a fourth drone in case the primary exfil was compromised in any way. The mission objective took priority over pretty much everything._

 _That day, Rodimus was forced to abandon his friend and take the Magnificence to a location known only to him._

XXXXXX

Rodimus entered the cell and knelt down next to dealer, who shied away from him. "P=please/don't hurt…meee…"

"Its okay, Dealer. I'm getting you out of here." Rodimus said. He took out a Deceptibrand shaped holo-generator and stuck it on Dealer's Autobot symbol, replacing his tattered appearance with another Decepticon Holomatter disguise.

It was slow getting back to the hangar bay, where the shuttle was waiting. Dealer could barely walk on what were nothing more than an exposed rusty endoskeleton and malnourished power lines. Rodimus placed Dealer behind some crates and entered the ship first to see if the pilot was still there. It was only by dumb luck that he found the pilot-who looked exactly like him.

They had that awkward moment where they said nothing for a solid minute, just staring at each other as if to process that they were looking at another version of themselves. Finally the Con regained his senses and reached for his gun. "What the fr-"

"Surprise!" Rodimus ditched his disguise and fired two bursts of electrostatic energy from his arm funnels, blasting a hole through the mech's chest. He let out a breath and ran over to Dealer. "That could've gone worse."

He tossed the body off the ship and cautiously escorted Dealer inside, placing him in the passenger seat. Rodimus, out of guilt, found it hard to look Dealer in the face as he started up the ship's engines. But when they left the moon and prepared to go into fold space, he risked a glance at Dealer, and saw the weary Autobot give him a grateful smile. Rodimus smiled back as they went into fold space and vanished from view.

XXXXXX

The official incident investigation report put the blame firmly on an unsecured comm channel and a defective Holomatter power cell. No one was to blame, and no one pointed fingers. But Rodimus instinctively knew he was responsible. It was his responsibility to double-check the mission ordnance and security interlocks. That was his job as team leader.

No one actually pointed the finger, but the buck stopped with Rodimus. He figured if he thought that, then so do others. Every time since then, whenever he headed up a tact response unit or field unit, he wondered "Do they trust me? Do I trust myself?"

Thankfully that was the only time he had gone through such a tragedy, but the guilt remained, as always. It was why Rodimus preferred to go solo if he had a choice. So that if he screwed up, the only one who pays the price is him. It got lonely sometimes. But Rodimus found some closure in saving the one life he could, and that was all that mattered.

Dealer had fallen into stasis lock for the duration of the flight back to Orbital Command and when they returned home, Rodimus handed him over to the med-team before heading to central command to get an earful from Elita-1, Ultra Magnus and his lover Tomahawk at the same time. In the meantime, Flashpoint promised that she could do everything in her power to make sure that Dealer would make a full recovery, but it would be a long time before he was ready for service again, if ever.

That was nearly half a deca-cycle ago. Rodimus accidentally ran into Dealer on his way to visiting Tomahawk. He was caught off guard when he ran into Dealer on his way back to his quarters after a particularly long and boring recon mission. He was shocked to see the mech so clean and healthy, standing on his own two feet and alive. It made Rodimus lose his track of mind.

"Dealer! Um, well…you see…" He just couldn't find the worse to say (which was a first for him), but Dealer had mercifully cut him off.

"Rodimus, it's alright. Really. In your position, I'd have done the exact same thing." Dealer smiled. "Duty before self and all that. But thank you for coming back for me, for risking so much. It means, well, everything. But there's one thing I'd like."

"What's that?"

Dealer held out his hand. "I'd like for us to be friends."

Rodimus smiled and laughed, returning the handshake. "Sure! Friends!"

XXXXXX

" _Well_?"

"Doesn't suspect a thing. As far as Rodimus is concerned, I'm the victim of a tragic set of circumstances." Dealer sat in his room, alone and talking to someone over an encrypted channel. "He's fairy dripping with guilt and remorse, sees the whole Argos mess as very much his own making. "He chuckled. "If only he knew it all came down to me."

It was surprisingly easy to sabotage the mission ordnance, seeing as Rodimus neglected to double-check the equipment. Dealer's mission was fairly easy, sabotaging the projector's power cell to simulate an ambush and have the guardians tear his "teammates" apart. Everything was going smoothly until Rodimus made an unexpected switch-play.

"If things handy derailed at the last second, you secret service would've had the Magnificence, Banzaitron, and I'd be very well off." Dealer huffed.

On the monitor, Banzaitron of the Decepticon Secret Service gave an annoyed grunt. "Indeed. And yet, all this time later, neither of us has what we wanted."

"Ah," Dealer raised a finger. "But Rodimus owes me, or he thinks he does. I can exploit that. in time, once our friendship deepens, I'm sure I can get him to tell me exactly where he stashed the Magnificence. And then it's all yours!"

"Ha! I see I must be very careful around you." Banzaitron laughed. "You certainly live up to your name, Doubledealer!"

Doubledealer smiled darkly. "Just don't double-cross me and we'll be the best of friends!"


	10. Fire on Fire

Chapter 9-Fire on Fire

The planet Ys'Devian was on fire. Originally it was the homeworld of a race of bipedal insectoids that had revolutionized solar technology to its zenith. But over the past two years, wars had plagued its populace; the major powers of the two largest continents clawing and biting at each other, blissfully unaware of the superior force controlling things from behind the scenes.

The wars got wars, more people died. By the time the natives got it in their heads to stop and think about why they were fighting in the first place, the Decepticon cell hidden in the world broke cover and quickly decimated the war torn nations, having already subtly drained much of the planet's resources during the constant wars. Once they had everything they needed, the Cons left the planet and called their executioner to finish the dying race off.

Sixshot. A Decepticon who was over 40 feet tall, taller than Optimus Prime and Megatron, who was a mixture of sea green, purple and white armor and was a unique specimen of his mechanical race. Sixshot was a mech with six alt modes, all lethal in design and intent: a gun, a spacecraft, a tank, a lion, an armored carrier and his massive robot mode. He was a living weapon built for war, a mech feared by enemy and ally alike, but he swore an oath of loyalty to Megatron himself an oath he refused to turn his back on even after Megaton's disappearance.

"Ahh!"

Sixshot heard a scream only for a second before he crushed the armored hull of a tank, killing its pilots and destroying the vehicle. He looked around at the carnage and infernal hell his companions had brought to this world. Phase six, the endgame, also known as siege mode, wasn't as important or that special when you really think about it. In the words of fellow phase sixer Black Shadow, bots like him, Sixshot and Overlord were essentially glorified janitors-a cleanup crew wearing the badge of a death squad. Sixshot didn't care; he had long ago learned that he enjoyed having something to do in this war.

He transformed into his tank mode and rolled across the ground firing missiles at a battlement. There were proton missiles, and the battlement's thick armor could not withstand the penetrating power of the torpedoes as it was destroyed by the ignition. More tanks came at him and Sixshot's body reconfigured into that of a massive lion. He charged at the remaining tanks, which were now attacking en masse as their bunker and last line of defense was destroyed.

Sixshot grunted in annoyance and roared, smashing into the tanks like a bull, throwing the armored vehicles into the air like toys. He tore away at them with steel teeth and iron claws ripping apart the composite armor that was supposed to be the more sophisticated of their race. They fell quickly.

Then he was assaulted by particle beams from above and saw a fleet of fighter aircraft flying towards him. Sneering, Sixshot transformed into his spacecraft form that shot at the brigade and tore through them with pulse cannons and concussion bombs that lit up the smoke-filled sky.

Just a normal day for the Decepticon executioner.

XXXXXX

Contrary to what many thought, Decepticon space stations weren't always bustling cesspools of betrayal scheming and torture. Many were pretty docile, and mostly quiet. These stations, placed far away from the front lines in remote areas of the galaxy for their importance and/or primary function, were mainly places for Cons that weren't gun-toting maniacs and registered psychos who worked behind the scenes to keep the war effort running. Kujata, Sixshot's current home away from home, was one such station. Calm, quiet and static enough for the blood lust surging through his circuits to die down without getting into a fight with some dumb frag drunk off his aft. In fact, aside from the faint hustle and bustle of the workers there, the station was mostly silent.

Sixshot hated the silence.

Having been a designated harbinger of destruction and one of the most powerful Cybertronians of the modern age, it made sense that Sixshot found the stillness between each mission borderline torture. Time crawls when he's not active, and if it went on long enough, he'd call it hell.

In times like this, Sixshot would pass the time by staring out the window at the void beyond. It didn't help make things any faster, but it did alleviate his boredom somewhat. Still, for a weapon of mass destruction, standing around like a bump on a log was a bit embarrassing.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Someone whispered.

Sixshot looked at the two mechs whispering behind him through his reflection. One of them was the purple headmaster, Apeface, and the other was some cold constructed mech brought online just a few months ago.

"You have a death wish?" Apeface hissed.

"What? I was just going to ask him if he was up for a couple of drinks." The rookie said.

"That's Sixshot, you moron. The walking apocalypse himself. He doesn't drink, let along hang out with bots he could snuff out in two non-kliks."

"But…"

Despite the rookie's protests, Apeface dragged him away from Sixshot, who didn't turn away from his stellar canvas. It was nothing new to him; his fellow Decepticons walk on eggshells around him, shun him. Sixshot terrified many in the Decepticon ranks, mainly soldier class, as whenever he was turned loose on his enemies…collateral damage was a very real and common occurrence. And Sixshot was not the mech to pull his punches because his allies were dumb enough to still be in the line of fire.

It wasn't that he was some adrenaline junkie that detested sleeping or something; even he valued the importance of relaxation between battles. No, he hated the lulls because there was nothing to distract him from that void in his being. That gaping hole in his Spark he could never hope to fill. Sixshot couldn't explain it as anything more than being bored by all the constant, repetitive killing and destruction his job entailed.

'No rage. No duty. No sense of self.' Sixshot thought as he stared at his reflection. 'It's not me staring into the abyss. I am the abyss!'

There was only one group that he could count as "company" and they were a group of Cons most Decepticons avoided if they could-the Terrorcons.

The Terrorcons – consisting of Hun-Grrr, Cutthroat, Blot, Rippersnapper, and Sinnertwin-were vicious and savage even by beast former standards. They were dangerous and ruthless Cons, mechs who gave into their bestial nature and shamelessly aspire to the sheer, unremitting level of carnage set by Sixshot himself. Something about Sixshot had attracted them to him, acting as if he were their teacher in all things destructive. Their partner in carnage. Sixshot tried to distance himself from them, but they always cling tighter. Granted, they were a hoot to hang out with during downtime, and Hun-Grrr especially was an all right mech to drink with.

But now it appears they had deserted him. And he wanted to know why.

"Squawkbox!"

The purple and green combiner jumped at Sixshot's yelling of his name and spun around in his seat. "S-Sixshot! What's the problem?"

Sixshot loomed over Squawkbox like a mountain. "The Terrorcons. Where are they?"

"Huh? Oh, you mean Hun-Grrr's crew. I don't, ah, let me see what I c-can find out." Squawkbox quickly got to work in locating the last known coordinates of the Terrorcons. He usually wasn't this quick on the job, but you don't keep someone like Sixshot waiting. "Found it! Oh…that's why. Mumu-Obscura."

"Mumu-Obscura?" Sixshot looked at the holo-image of the planet in question. It looked like it was made of a mixture of rock and metal, a lesser form of Cybertron with a quarter of its mantle missing.

"A planet in the Eigerson-48 system-strategically important, the dominant species in need of pacification." Squawkbox explained. "The, ah, Terrorcons went in. they never came out. Since then, all fact-finding missions have been savagely repulsed. Word is, Mumu-Obscura has fallen to some group called the Reapers."

That caught Sixshot's attention. The Reapers. He heard very little of such a group, and the data files on them were next to nothing. Anything that does pertain to them amounts to myths and scary stories that make them out to be interstellar boogeymen created by frightened beings to control other frightened beings. But within every myth and legend is a nub of hard fact. And Sixshot set out to separate truth from fiction.

XXXXXX

Mumu-Obscura looked like hell. The planet was a small planetoid, probably a dwarf class, and much of its surface was covered in visible machinery, though the yell tale orange glows on its surface hinted at its unstable formation.

Sixshot's flight here from the station was reasonably quick thanks to his built in fold generator. He barely used any energon in the flight into the star system. But the minute he entered Mumu-Obscura's orbit, his sensors picked up multiple heat signatures coming his way-surface to air seeker warheads.

"Here comes the welcome mat," Sixshot said. There was a hint of a grin in his voice. "Well, bring it on!"

He increased his speed and flew straight into the missiles, the combined detonation of it all forming a large sphere of flames in the planet's upper atmosphere. A lesser bot or a starship would've been completely destroyed by that amount of firepower, but Sixshot's body armor diffused most of the explosion to reasonable levels against his body. His spacecraft mode flew out of the dying flames and down towards the planet unscathed. But as he passed through an asteroid field, Sixshot was suddenly assaulted by a wall of cloaked proton cannons hidden among the space debris.

'These guys must really like their personal space.' Sixshot observed. The thought made him laugh as he switched to his space gun configuration and began shooting down the invisible cannons. 'Kind of like me.'

With the annoying defenses gone and his path of entry clear, Sixshot made planet fall on the ravaged world. As he felt into its orbit and towards the surface, he noted how thorough the destruction the Reapers caused was. The ground was like a jigsaw puzzle with magma seeping through the surface like blood, buildings little more than skinny metal frames twisted and bent beyond its original construction.

'I love scorching a planet as much as the next bot, but this is a bit much.' Sixshot thought. 'Why do all this? All this devastation and for what?'

Sixshot flew in low and shifted into his beast mode upon landing, his immense weight leaving huge paw prints in the ground. His feline head scanned the area, sniffing the air for any scent other than that of burning corpses and smoldering metal. He tried to wrap his mind around why the Reapers did this in the first place; whatever tactical worth or other exploited attributes Mumu-Obscura did or didn't have is all gone. The Reapers seemed to go out of their way to leave behind a dead world in every aspect.

He sniffed the air. Little or no atmosphere, the base elements of its geological sub-structure contaminated, any and all infrastructure stripped away. Mum-Obscura was just another addition to a long chain of planet-sized mausoleums.

'Maybe there was a reason for this. A plan of some kind that had nothing to do with this planet' Sixshot's eyes widened as a possible answer came to him. 'No…was this all a plan to lure…'

A shadow fell over him and Sixshot spun around, baring his teeth. Three figures stood at the edge of the crater. They were cybertronians, but Sixshot couldn't recall seeing them before. The femme in the lead was orange-red, with bright golden wings folded on her back and parts of a beast alt mode on her slender frame, with had glowing orange eyes and a face that looked like it could've been sculpted from marble. Her companions were definitely twins, bulky mechanoids with similar frames, only one was red and the other was blue. Sixshot noted the red bot's cannon and the blue bot's odd shield array.

"At long last, we meet." The red femme said, smiling. Her voice reminded Sixshot of the Decepticon Copperhead, calm but ready to strike at a moment's notice. "My name is Ember, and these are my associates Mercurius and Vayeate. Welcome to our world, Sixshot."

"Well, that's mighty accommodating of you." Sixshot said, changing into his bipedal form. "Care to go one stage further and tell me if the Terrorcons are still alive?"

"They are, I assure you that." Ember said, smiling peacefully. "All you have to do is claim them…from us!"

'So they did lure me here. Explains the welcoming party.' Sixshot drew his sonic barrage pistols and charged them up. 'Fine by me.'

The red mech, Mercurius, leapt forward just as Sixshot fired his pistols, at them. The eight panels on his back flew around him to form a shield, generating a powerful magnetic field that allowed the condensed sonic blasts to bounce right off it. Sixshot didn't wait for his attack to end before he switched tactics, switching to gun mode and shooting twin plasma blasts at their feet. The trio scattered in different directions, and to Sixshot, that made his job easier.

He focused on Ember first, firing another twin blast at her. Ember leapt away and shot a large fireball at him that slammed against his underside, which didn't do too much damage, but it blinded him to Mercurius also flying up to him. The red mech commanded his panels to form into a long lance and slammed it into Sixshot's alt mode, hitting him with enough force that it caused him to spin upward, exposing his underside for Ember to attack once more.

"Ngh!" Sixshot grunted as another fire blast actually blew him out of the sky and sent him crashing to the ground. These freaks were powerful, and were actually dealing some solid damage off him. Considering they had laid waste to this world in the time it took for him to get there, they were clearly professionals at what they do. "That's it. No more games. Let's get this done!"

He switched to tank mode and began firing his laser cannons at Ember and Mercurius. Vayeate, who had stayed hidden until now, flanked Sixshot and fired her long beam cannon, hitting the rear of his tank mode. Sixshot spun back around to attack her, but Mercurius leapt in front of her and blocked the laser blasts he shot at them. Vayeate stepped from behind her brother's protection and fired her cannon again, this time hitting one of Sixshot's treads. Ember joined in on the fun by raining down a stream of intensely hot flames from above in her beast mode.

The earth trembled from their increasingly destructive battle, the battlefield literally coming apart at the seams from their power. Sixshot, as strong as he was, knew that their combined assault would wear away at even his defenses and was forced to back off.

Ember changed to bipedal mode and landed on the ground, slamming her fists into the ground and summoning large geysers of flame to burst from the earth. Sixshot was grazed by one of the flaming spouts, hissing as he felt his armor warp from the immense heat and reconfigured into his gunship mode. He flew high above the molten landscape and awaited another assault…but it never came.

"That's enough. I think he's learned by now." Ember said. Mercurius and Vayeate stood down, holstering their weapons and standing beside their leader. Sixshot sighed inwardly, happy that it was over. They were starting to do some seriously damage.

'Wait, they were toying with me!' He angrily thought. If that was just them doing a warm up, then if they were really serious…they could have seriously injured him. Maybe even killed him given enough time!

Ember took out a dark red crystal and dropped it to the ground, crushing it under her foot. Energy burst from the shattered crystal and formed a dome. Five figures materialized inside the dome-the Terrorcons.

"Your friends are safe." Ember said. "Disoriented, but not harmed in any way."

Sixshot hesitated, but transformed back to robot mode. "And we can just go on our merry way, no hard feelings? Is that it? C'mon, what do you really want?"

"You." She answered. "Sixshot, we've kept a close eye on you over the past deca-cycles. Harbinger of destruction you are, I know constantly fighting and destroying has become dull to you. You are locked in an endless cycle of destruction, isolation, desperation and-almost inevitably-madness."

"Whose we?" He asked.

"My organization. We're a group of mechs and femmes who were like you, trapped by our unnatural instincts, locked in a self-destructive cycle of killing, fighting, and more killing. What we seek is to break that cycle and redirect out murderous proclivities."

"And now?"

"Now instead of waging war….we seek to end it forever."

"End war?" Sixshot snorted and motioned to the apocalyptic landscape around them. "And this is how you go about it, eh? I gotta tell you, this grand plan of yours-whatever it is-still has a few…rough edges."

"You do not understand. How can you, when all you see is what others tell you to see? What we have done here is merely to cauterize one of the universes many bleeding wounds." Ember took a step forward, not taking her gaze off the six changer. ""This world has been fought over for eons, costing billions of lives. Better surely to take it out of the equation entirely than let it continue to be the spur for perpetual bloodshed and carnage. All this…is a mercy."

Sixshot had no response for that. This was nothing new to him or any combatant in the war. Worlds burn, some are destroyed, others live, yet he death toll still rises. Occasionally a strategically important planet would pop up, but those went by quickly. In the end, despite who occupied that planet, the world would still drag on ceaselessly. Sixshot could count the number of times that's happened with the amount of stars in the galaxy.

"I know you feel it too. That's void that eats away at your soul between every battle. You are a powerful warrior, Sixshot, but you have no proper cause, no reason to fight. That loneness and emptiness you're feeling was a product of your people's war. And the longer you fight, the more agonizing it will be." She continued. "Which is why I want to extend an invitation to you, Sixshot. Join us. We offer you a case, a focus. We offer you a home. All you have to do, to prove you have truly cast off the shackles of your previous life…is eradicate these five."

"Who? Us?" Rippersnapper exclaimed. "The hell man?"

Sixshot looked at the Reapers, then to the Terrorcons, and back again, rubbing his chin. His indecision made the Terrorcons very nervous.

"No…you wouldn't!" Hun-Gurr said. "Sixshot, c'mon! we…have a bond. You don't need these misfits. You already got…er…"

"Us misfits." Cutthroat said.

"Yeah, right!" Hun-Gurr nodded. "Right?"

Sixshot made his decision. He leapt up and transformed into his ship mode, and aimed his guns on the Terrorcons.

"Sixshot, wait!"

Rippersnapper's cries were drowned out by the sound of Sixshot's cannons firing on them. He fired his cannons three times, blasting apart the ground before switching to tank mode and firing his particle cannons on top of that. Smoke and dust filled the area, but when it cleared, it revealed the totally unscathed Terrorcons standing in a ring of holes, looking absolutely terrified.

"Ha!" Sixshot laughed. "Got ya good, didn't I?"

Ember's expression was unreadable at his blatant refusal to join them. She snapped her fingers and her two subordinates vanished in a flash of light. Before she left, Ember gave Sixshot some parting words.

"When the ties that bind finally, irrevocably snap, we will find you again." She promised. "And on that day, you will see just how grand our plan to bring true unity to the universe will be!"

Ember vanished in a pillar of fire, leaving behind a smoking crater in her wake. The Terrorcons let out a collective sigh of relief, but Sixshot felt anything but. He felt a part of him leave with them and it sent a pang of emotions all the way down to his Spark.

But, looking down at the Terrorcons, Sixshot's pain was somewhat elated with the knowledge that he wasn't a lost cause. The badge he wore still meant something, and these odd bots who seemed to be glued to him stir empathy of a sort.

"Sixshot, let's call in a ship and head home." Rippersnapper said. "I think I lost a few cycles of my life."

"Yes, let's." Sixshot agreed.

Yes. It's enough…for now.

XXXXXX

" _So he refused the offer, huh?"_ Kopesh sighed. _"I thought you said he would accept. That his insecurities would leave him vulnerable to outside manipulation."_

Ember twirled a piece of hardened lava in her red fingers as she gazed out at Charr's lava fields. "He is, and your meeting with him has planted the seeds of doubt within his mind. Give him some time and he will be a crucial pawn in our game."

Kopesh nodded, his ebony black head glistening in the bright sunlight on the world he was settling on. _"Things are doing well on my end. I still have Ultra Magnus hounding me, but recently there has been a new…development that might grant us some more time."_

"Should I be worried?"

" _Nothing of the sort. She's an uncontrollable asset but useful if directed on the right people."_ He assured her. After a moment of silence, he asked, _"May I speak freely, Ember?"_

"You may."

" _The Expansion. Can you guarantee it will work? We're dealing with powerful forces here."_

"I understand you hesitation, but it's unfounded and uneeded. Mem Aleph will handle the more life threatening aspects of the Expansion. We just need to set the process up and eliminate wild cards who might destroy everything we've worked for." Ember said. "If this goes right, we'll have an endless source of energy to call upon. We will have the power to remake the universe for our people and find the paradise we've all sought for."

" _And the universe will finally know peace."_

"Yes, but first, we must wipe away the old slate and send everything…into the void."


	11. Gods Among Us

Chapter 10-Gods Among Us

The first thing one would think upon hearing the name Swindle was thief. The mech was a weapons dealer, though Swindle considered himself more of a trader in "questionable goods". He didn't care what people said about his profession; there was money to be held in selling valuable tech to other races. Wonderful goodies that he would graciously offer his team, the Combaticons…for a price.

Unfortunately, his profession also brought about a number of unsavory characters to the forefront. Many of them were past clients and buyers he'd made business with and swindled on many occasions. Such people were also the same population that wanted his head on a spike for such swindling after they realized what he did. Now, Swindle could care less about those bozos, many were interplanetary crime bosses and blowhards who were too afraid of stepping foot outside their respective star systems, and he could usually handle those guys with clever thinking and his own stash of top grade weaponry he carried on hand. Sure, there were many individuals he was personally afraid of, he had a list of such people actually, but there was only one at the top of the list who garnered his true fear.

"Of Primus, he's gonna get me." Swindle mumbled as another tremor shook the fortress that was harboring him. "He's gonna find me and he's gonna-"

"Silence your mumblings, coward!" Lorcha, warlord of the planet Zull, growled up at the taller mech. The yellow skinned brute with two curved tusk extending from his mouth glared at the Decepticon. "You call yourself a Decepticon and act like this? Pathetic!"

"Lorcha, you've never fought him before!" Swindle flinched as another explosion rattled outside. That was probably one of Lorcha's tanks going up in flames. "He's come for me, and he won't stop until he has me!"

"And what if he has?" Lorcha pointed a claw at Swindle. "Remember why you sought me out in the first place-this whole planet is one, vast, impregnable fortress. No one can get in unless I permit it."

Swindle shook his head. "You don't know him, Lorcha, you've never seen him on the field. He'll find a way, he's-"

There was a groan behind the reinforced titanium doors behind him and Swindle cursed. A plasma beam tore through the metal like fire on ice and were blasted open, sending debris everywhere. A tall blue and white mech walked in, broad white shoulders making look even taller than he already was as he stomped into the bunker and set his blue eyes on Swindle. He pointed his gun at the criminal.

"Ultra Magnus!" Swindle gasped.

"All of you stand down! I am a duly appointed enforcer of the Tyrest Accord. We can do this my way…or the hard way." Ultra Magnus walked deeper into the room and glared at Swindle. "Swindle, you are coming with me."

Swindle looked terrified, but Lorcha and his personal guard were unaffected by Ultra Magnus's dramatic entrance. His warriors rolled into formation in hover tanks armed with ion cannons designed to take down anything from armored carriers to giant battlesuits.

"You have no authority here, cybertronian!" Lorcha hissed and slashed his hand. "Execute him!"

Ultra Magnus's tactical processor quickly marked each tank as a target and in a second his arm was up in a flash, firing grenades from the launcher on his blaster. Each tank was tagged and each grenade exploded one after the other, disabling the vehicles with strong EMP charges that shorted out their systems.

Lorcha made to draw his own gun, but stopped when Ultra Magnus glared at him with his large, icy blue eyes. "Don't."

"Hey, Magnus!" The Autobot looked up and saw Swindle standing atop one of the catwalks, hefting a large, six-chambered energy cannon on his shoulder that was glowing dangerously bright. "You know what this is? An R-infinity generator with a fusion reactor as a power source. A lot of Autobots got slagged by this baby. You wanna demo?"

The mech pulled the trigger and fired six large beams of energy that intertwined upon discharge into a larger blast. Ultra Magnus jumped to the side to avoid getting blown apart by the powerful attack and fired a rocket from his left shoulder. The projectile hit the bridge Swindle was standing on and he fell to the ground under a pile of debris. He gave a loud "slag!" as he landed head first and was dazed for a moment before finding the barrel of a very large rifle pointed in his face.

"Just give me an excuse!" Ultra Magnus grumbled. Swindle whined and wordlessly surrendered. Ultra Magnus cuffed him and dragged him over to the doors. Before he left, Ultra Magnus gave Lorcha one more warning. "As for you, Lorcha! You have a bad habit of offering miscreants safe harbor in return for, shall we say, utilization of their violent or criminal proclivities. Do so again for another wanted cybertronians and I'll bring the walls of Zull tumbling down!"

Lorcha hissed obscenities at the Autobot as Ultra Magnus and Swindle left his ruined fortress. Ultra Magnus paid him no mid. It was all in a day's work for an officer of the Tyrest Accord and he heard a lot worse than angry grunts from a backwater warlord.

XXXXXX

Even in war, there are rules-codes of practice and conduct that must be abided by, and it was the duty of Ultra Magnus to enforce those rules.

His job went all the way back to the middle stages of the War for Cybertron, back when the war began spreading across the Hadeen system. Chief Justice Tyrest, one of the most prominent Autobots who was also a highly regarded political figure by both Autobots and Decepticons, and a key member in Nova Prime's regime, had sought to find ways to end the war before planetary society broke down even further. The Autobots fully supported this goal, but he had little luck with the Decepticons, who were not the least bit interested in any kind of ceasefire or truce with the Autobots, let alone a Prime. He held numerous peace talks with Optimus and Megatron to bring about a truce, but as expected, no compromise could be met.

Only one thing had come from these talks and that was the Code of Interplanetary Conflict-the only law both sides agreed to uphold. Basically, the Tyrest Accord, as it was named, was a law forbidden the sharing of Cybertronian science and technology to other species. Both sides didn't want some alien military with a hatred for mechanoids swooping in torching both sides with weapons made by cybertronian hands. Not even the Galactic Council was above that scrutiny, given their penchant for "accidentally" firing on cybertronian vessels, non-combatants or not.

The mech chosen to enforce this law was none other than Prime's own second in command, Ultra Magnus, who had close ties to Tyrest in the first place. It made sense, given that he was a stern mech who followed the rules to the letter, though was more flexible than Prowl in certain situations, and his no-nonsense demeanor made him perfect for the position as liaison to the Galactic Council and Tyrest. His job, apprehending violators of the Tyrest Accord, was something he willingly volunteered for. But it took him off the battlefield and there was no shortage of Autobots who were less than pleased that he was catering to the GC instead of helping with the war effort.

There was no love lost for the Galactic Council; many Autobot vessels had been "accidentally" fired upon fired by GC patrol ships and Ultra Magnus had to negate the fallout caused by such incidents to avoid some of the more aggressive Autobots from declaring war on them. This has led many; Springer included, to view him as a "dog" of the GC, a traitor who'd stick his neck out for a bunch of alien politicians instead of siding with his comrades in arms.

He would've been lying (and he never lied, only told half-truths) if he said that their comments didn't sting. He valued his position among the Autobots, the role he played, the goals he vowed to uphold. Optimus Prime respected his decision and choices, placing a tremendous amount of trust in him. Prime entrusted the safety of the Autobot cause to him. But that was easier said than done.

"So…let's deal."

Swindle said it with his signature smirk, like he was offering a once in a lifetime deal. Like he wasn't stuck behind laser bars inside the Accord officer's personal shuttle, the Steelhaven. Ultra Magnus himself wasn't the least bit impressed by Swindle's gall.

"You're going back to the regional Decepticon command hub, Swindle," Ultra Magnus said, staring straight into Swindle's big purple eyes. "No doubt to face a military tribunal and court material. I imagine even your team is sick of pulling your aft out of the fire. And just to make it clear, I don't deal."

"Well. See. I'm not so sure. In my experience, everyone-no matter how unbending they may seem-wants something. Even you, Magnus."

"No. nothing you have to offer would make me compromise my sworn duty."

Swindle the played his trump card. "Oh yeah? Not even Kopesh?"

Ultra Magnus scowled, and Swindle grinned, knowing he caught a big one. The law officer wordlessly left the mech to his solitude and headed to his quarters, his personal sanctuary where he brooded on the deep slag that plagued his mind. His computer held files on all the criminals he captured and those he was still pursuing. He pressed a button and a profile image of one of his top ten most wanted popped up on the monitor.

It was a bright golden mech with the ebony colored head of a jackal, and a matching beast mode that was similar to the animal of the same name. He was an old mech, forged in the waning days of Nova Prime's rule, though his actions until the Uprising were still a mystery. His name was Kopesh.

Just the name made Ultra Magnus scowl. Though the two largest factions in the civil war were the Autobots and Decepticons, there were still a number of smaller factions running around, but none were as mysterious and dangerous as the Order.

They were once a clandestine religious organization that existed all the way back to the golden age, an organization composed of mechs and femmes who worship a pantheon of stone gods, beings said to have forged cybertronians from cosmic fire. This worship bordered on fanatical, but no one really paid them any mind before and after the war began. That is, until the Order's leader, Ember, instigated the invasion of Iacon, tried killing Alpha Trion and Elita-1 and brought about the Fall through Thunderwing. And later evidence pointed to them having a hand in Tarn's Great Fire.

It honestly baffled Ultra Magnus at how much influence the Order had in cybertronian political and social affairs. They were divided into separate cells, each one maintaining limited contact with the other and rarely conversing with each other unless it was for special gatherings or to work on operations. The highest ranking members were Ember's inner circle, and they were the ones he had to look out for.

Kopesh was one such member. Personal records showed that he was a headmaster with a beast mode; forged in the Manganese Mountains, under the shadow of Mount Novus, Koepsh had a bad habit if selling himself as a god to primitive races, forcing them to worship him and gifting them common, if a bit outdated, cybertronian technology to improve their lives. It doesn't sound bad, until you get to the part where said primitives commit unholy acts of violence against themselves and each other to appease him.

Sacrifices, gladiator fights, orgies, blood baths…each act more debasing and disgusting than the last. When everything was said and done, a number of things would happen to those races; Kopesh would drive them to commit genocide and eventually extinction, leave them to their own sinful activities and vanish entirely, or bestow a paradise on them forever, grant these people "eternal pleasure". It depended on his mood. To these poor souls, Kopesh appeared as a benevolent god, or a horrid demon of retribution,

Ultra Magnus had no idea why Kopesh did this, but the mech had a lot of blood on his hands. This was no top of illegally sharing cybertronian technology with primitive races barely out of their medieval ages. It was like giving a MKII fusion cannon to a child. They play around with it until they either kill themselves or someone else. This maniac needed to be taken out, and Swindle probably had a lead on his whereabouts.

He frowned and switched the computer off. Swindle was right. If he knows about Kopesh's whereabouts, and if that knowledge means he can take him unawares before he has a chance to cut on run…then the weasel does have what he wants.

'But is it enough for to make me bend?' Ultra Magnus thought. To him, one compromise leads to another, and another, and pretty soon you've crossed the line you're supposed to be holding. Thinking back on all the times Kopesh had eluded him, and left behind a mountain range of corpses, Ultra Magnus, made his decision.

XXXXXX

He cut Swindle loose. The bastard was overwhelmingly smug about succeeding to convince the great, unshakable Ultra Magnus to set him free. Which was why he was proud of leaving the mech on a remote planet in the least savory trading post in the quadrant, with nothing of any worth to his name. The place was populated by some of the galaxy's most vile scum, many no big fans of cybertronians, but Ultra Magnus had no illusions that Swindle won't survive. Hell, he might even thrive there.

Ultra Magnus left Swindle along knowing full well that the nano-tag he planted on the mech without his knowledge will lead him straight back to the Combaticon. In the mean time, after rigorously verifying it, Ultra Magnus followed Swindle's info to the planet Runera.

XXXXXX

Vanadiel was a distant planet in the lower half of the third quadrant of GC territory. It wasn't a charter planet of the Galactic Coalition, but it had enough influence to garner cover protection from unsavory off-world elements, namely the Decepticons. It was home to a moderately advanced race of bipedal feline humanoids called the Mithra, who had reached high levels of technological and political heights for a pre-space age society, but such progress was hampered by the Mithras' constant struggle against an invading swarm of insectoids known as the Wasters.

The Steelhaven easily bypassed Vanadiel's orbital satellites and flew towards the larger of the two continents in the east. Setting his ship in the heart of a dense forest, Ultra Magnus scanned an alt mode from one of the larger vehicles and generate his Holomatter-a young, brown furred female Mithra with short bright red hair and black eyes with pupiless gold irises, common features found in most Mithra. One little quirk about the Mithra was that the majority of their society was dominated by women. Male Mithra birthrates were low enough that males were regulated to housework and child rearing while the females took care of political, military and space affairs.

There were a lot of places to look, but Swindle was able to narrow down his choices with some inside information on where Kopesh would most likely be operating. On Vanadiel, there was a religious organization called the Circle, which was growing in popularity lately. Kopesh, acting as a sun god, recruited many followers within months of arriving on the planet, focusing on men and women who had their lives destroyed by the Wasters that were tearing apart everything from the west to the east like a force of nature. He contacted these people via his circle of priests that were managed by two people; High Priestess Rana Mihgo and her daughter, the Priestess Nanaa Mihgo. Both hailed from the House of Ianoi, the last of the noble families after the Wasters' initial attack on the planet. It was no surprise that such high profile figures in Runeran society were his eyes and ears to the outside world. One needs honey to attract bees.

Kopesh's modus operandi during these lengthy operations was to disappear into the background, appearing irregularly to his followers to showcase some awesome feat of divinity or smite an innocent blasphemer who asked too questions. He operated through priests and priestesses, spokespeople to spread his word. Rana and Nanaa fit that bill perfectly, and their status as nobles only increased the Circle's popularity. It would seem odd that a highly advanced technological civilization would be so caught up in a religious fraud like this, but with the Wasters slowly decimating their world each year, and hope becoming little more than a dream, it's no wonder that many would look to a divine being for help. It was easy for those predators to use gods and demons as a way to control the masses via a symbol of hope.

Ultra Magnus spent a few days covertly scouting the city where his targets were operating in, mainly spotting Nanaa in the middle of a relief effort helping refugees. He took his time to learn who had the most influence in this sect, where they got their money from and where their main temple was located, but he paid most of his attention to Nanaa.

The young woman often spent her time helping refugees settle down, healing the sick and wounded, hosting prayer sessions and playing with the children. Though she was a high ranking member of the Circle, it was clear that her role was to be the group's public face; she lacked her mother's experience, though her faith was genuine, as was her belief in the god of light. She only sought to bring peace to those whose lives were ruined, and done so however she could. A far cry from her standoffish mother and fellow priestesses.

Ultra Magnus pulled up in front of the camp and cleared his throat to get her attention. "Hello? Lady Priestess?"

"Yes?" Nanaa looked up at him. It wasn't hard to see that she was young, well into her teenage years. Her youthful looks were enhanced by her smooth, clean brown fur and a lithe figure clothed in a turquoise dress and ivory beaded headdress over a head of spiky red hair. Her eyes were dark brown and wide, full of kindness rarely seen in moth beings. Ultra Magnus now knew why so many suitors asked to court her. "Good morning, traveler! Is there something you need?"

"Yes, Lady Priestess. I'm sorry to bother you like this, but…" Magnus' holomatter was female, but he looked tall, muscular and had a deep voice that made her look slightly intimidating to look at, like a feral cat. He hoped his appearance didn't put her off. "I would like to seek the presence of your god. I seek the wisdom of the High Father."

"I see." Nanaa nodded. "May I ask why do you want to meet with Her?"

He feigned a look of sadness and despair, drawing on some unpleasant memories to make the act more genuine. "My home…I lived on a farm with my brother when those monsters came. They overran my home town and killed…" He choked and shook his head, feline ears pointing down in sadness.

"It's okay. You're in safe hands now." Nanaa said soothingly. She heard enough horror stories to ascertain his current situation. Ultra Magnus had to admire the sheer compassion she treated people with. If only she wasn't embroiled in some mad mech's schemes.

'If Sky Lynx could see me now.' He thought. "Thank you for your kind words, my lady. I…just needed some advice from our lord. I need to know what I can do with what's left of my life. I must know what path I should take."

"Dear Madam, you do not need to speak to God to find hope and happiness. All you need to do is open your heart and allow yourself to heal naturally. Use this tragedy to come back stronger, for there are many hardships in the eternal journey that is Life." Nanaa said kindly. Her hands were soft as silk as she ran them down his back in a comforting manner. "But I will speak with my mother and see if she will allow you an audience. Only she can grant you access to the High Father."

"Thank you, Lady Priestess." Ultra Magnus said, briefly lamenting how few people in the galaxy could be this kind.

XXXXXX

Surprisingly, it didn't take long for Nanaa to get permission from her mother. A day later, she contacted him and informed him of her mother's decision.

"I'm surprised mother accepted your request so quickly. Usually, only acolytes of the Circle are allowed to commune with the High Father these days, since the number of displaced refugees are increasing and it's getting more difficult to support them all. We're forced to limit the number of audiences with the High Father since the last Waster incursion ravaged another metropolis." Nanaa said. She rode in Magnus' passenger seat next to his avatar as they talked. Nanaa had to convince her security detail to allow her to drive with Ultra Magnus, but her silver tongue managed that task just fine. In the eyes of the law, she was an adult who could take care of herself. "I guess she thinks that allowing people to see Him again will raise their hopes once more."

"Why has the High Priestess refused audiences with the High Father?" Ultra Magnus asked. He genuinely wanted to know.

"I don't know. I thought it was because there were too many people to take care of, but I think it might just be because mother is a bit overwhelmed." Nanaa didn't look particularly happy about that, but like any proper woman, she kept her opinions to herself to avoid giving away personal matters to someone she only knew for a day. "Anyway, by accepting your prayers, I hope this will change things for us. Maybe even assuage those baleful rumors being said about the Circle."

"You are a kind woman, Nanaa." Ultra Magnus said. "I believe gaining wisdom from you alone is enough to keep the people going, even without a god."

Nanaa blushed, smiling sweetly as she kept her eyes on the raindrops pelting the Autobot's windshield. "If only that were enough."

Ultra Magnus drove up to the temple. It was a large building built into the mountain behind it, with a pagoda-like roof and statues depicting a dog-headed figure along the perimeter of the temple's courtyard. It was a humanoid statue of his target-Kopesh. The tiles were pained gold and black, while the statues themselves were made of _real_ gold. It seemed the group had more than enough money to give their benevolent god multiple idols.

The Autobot parked himself outside the front gates and had his avatar escort Nanaa through the light rain into the courtyard. Ultra Magnus took note of how ostentatious the place looked, as if they wanted the whole world to see the wealth and beauty their god brought to them.

'Kopesh didn't waste any time making these people build idols in his honor, did he?' He thought.

Women clothed in the same robes as Nanaa, though less lavish as the woman herself, passed them, giving the Priestess a bow. The rain did little to bother them or her, and they didn't try to take cover from it. Nanaa led him to the temple's entrance, where her mother was waiting.

"Mother." Nanaa greeted.

"Nanaa, I thought I told you to stay with your guards. They're there for a reason." Rana Mihgo said. She was just as beautiful as her daughter despite her advanced age, with some wrinkles around her eyes and faded red hair.

"I know mother, but I was in good hands." She motioned to Ultra Magnus. "This is Minimus, she's the woman who wants to speak to the High Father. His home was destroyed and she seeks His guidance."

"Her story is no different from the other refugees-they have no home, no livelihoods or families, so why should I allow you a moment of the High Father's time?" Rana asked, giving Ultra Magnus a glare that would cause most other people to back away. But Ultra Magnus had faced an angry Optimus, Elita-1 and Grimlock in his hayday, so this was nothing.

"Lady Rana, I merely seek guidance. My home is gone, along with everything I value. My brother, Dominus, is missing, but I know deep in my heart he is alive. I just need to know where to look, to know where he is. He's all I have left."

Rana thought it over, knowing that the possibility of rescuing a male mithra, a rare commodity among their kind, was too much to pass up. "Our High Father is willing to open our doors to all who seek his wisdom and prayers. Things have just been…difficult for all of us lately." She said. "Nanaa, you may go now. I will handle it from here."

"Yes, mother. May the High Father's light shine on you, Minimus Ambus." Nanaa said and walked away, leaving him with the High Priestess.

With her daughter gone, Rana led Ultra Magnus into the temple. The entrance hall had a large red carpet on the floor, leading to a chamber large enough to accommodate him in his robot mode. At the center of the room was another gold statue of Kopesh sitting cross-legged with two lotus plants in his hands. The walls were lined with blue crystals and murals depicted the "ascension" of the High Father, an enlightened being. From there, Rana escorted Ultra Magnus down another hall that sloped downward, possibly underground.

"Here we are." Rana said, bringing Ultra Magnus into another chamber with a large metal archway in front of two ornate doors. "This archway is how we measure one's sin. Those runes carved into it will glow, and how strongly they glow will be the measure of your sins. Pass through here and you will then meet our god."

"What happens if I fail the test?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"Then you will be struck down on the spot." Rana said, her slitted feline eyes staring into his like a predatory cat.

Ultra Magnus frowned, but he followed along anyway. He didn't have time to waste. It was either this or bust through the front door in his vehicle mode and expose himself. "Fine, I have committed no sins."

'That I'm willing to admit.' He added mentally.

He looked up at the archway, an uneasy feeling rising in the back of his mind. Something wasn't right here, but he was in no position to back out, lest Rana got suspicious. Ultra Magnus sighed and walked forward, each step leaving an ominous echo in the empty chamber. When he paused in front of the archway, he hesitantly took two steps under it.

Then there was pain.

As soon as he felt his faux body freeze in place, Ultra Magnus withdrew his cognitive functions from his holomatter's virtual nervous system. His real body shuddered as his holomatter disintegrated.

"Slag!" Ultra Magnus cursed. He lost the element of surprise. Kopesh would be the type of person to disguise a holomatter reader in plain sight. He didn't get this far by being stupid. "I'm not losing you this time!"

He drove through the gates of the courtyard, honking his horn loudly to get the people out of his way. He had to reach Kopesh before he stripped out all the essential data and hardware before slipping away through some back door.

But he had more things to worry about as the statues of Kopesh began to move. The one closest to him leaped off its place by the gates and slammed into him. Ultra Magnus converted to robot mode and got to his feet before his body even finished rearranging. He punched the attacking statue in the face and took out his photon rifle, firing at the other two statues approaching him.

"Come on out, Kopesh!" He yelled. "I'm here for you!"

" _How dare you say a god's name in vain?"_ Kopesh's voice growled through the three statues. _"You certainly live up to your family's legacy, Ambus. You've made Tyrest proud!"_

"Just shut up!" Ultra Magnus fired two photon beams into the first statue's head as the other two rushed him. One grabbed his arm while the other threw punches at the back of his head.

Ultra Magnus wrenched his arm free and punched the drone in the face, caving its head in. He kicked the other one away and fired at its knees. Ripping the spear it thrust at him from its hands, he stabbed it through the head, severing its head from its body. He kicked it aside and tore the other one's head off.

"Kopesh, surrender and I won't tear your golden castle down!" He called out. "I am a duly appointed officer of the Tyrest Accord. We can do this the hard way, or the-"

"You have no place here, Autobot!" Rana Mihgo shouted as she ran outside, enraged and out for blood. "Your kind has no authority on Vanadiel!"

"That was before you started harboring cybertronian criminals, Rana." Ultra Magnus replied. "I'm sure the Galactic Coalition won't appreciate that."

"Since when have you or the Coalition given a damn about us? We have appealed for their assistance against the Wasters for decades and you've all turned us away out of fear of drawing the swarm's attention!" Rana snarled. "Kopesh has cared for us, given us more than you war mongering Autobots and hypocritical politicians. As far as I'm concerned, Magnus, you can burn with the rest of them!"

A lightning bolt hit the ground before Ultra Magnus, its loud boom masking the growl from the four legged beast that pounced on his back. Serrated titanium teeth tore into his shoulder and the Autobot hissed before grabbing the beast by the head and throwing it to the ground. The beast in question was a golden jackal with a black canine head and ruby eyes. It transformed into a taller bipedal mech with the same canine head.

"You insist on sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!" Kopesh growled. He drew two curved blades from his back and held them up in a challenge. "I should've killed you the moment you derailed my plans on Yavin!"

"You've had plenty of chances, Kopesh. All squandered when you ran like a coward!" ultra Magnus lifted his rifle. "Now lower your weapons and surrender immediately."

"Never!"

Kopesh charged at him, pushing his leg hydraulics to their limits as he leapt up to kick Ultra Magnus in the face. He fired his rifle, but Kopesh slashed his hand, cutting deep into his mesh and knocking the gun from his grasp. Ultra Magnus went to grapple him, wrapping his long arms around the mech's torso in an attempt to drag him to the ground, but Kopesh evaded his grasp and slashed his blades across his chest plate. Magnus quickly backed off before Kopesh could lop off his head with a following strike.

"You're lucky, Magnus. It's not often I get to fight a heathen such as yourself." Kopesh said. "In the past, I would've simply wound up my operations and moved on. But I'm on the verge of something quite breathtaking in scope here. So it is you who must go!"

He threw his blades at Ultra Magnus, who knocked them away, but it left him open for when Kopesh weaved behind him and slammed two fists into his back. Ultra Magnus grunted as he felt his body seize up, bolts of golden energy surging through his body as he was propelled forward, crashing into a wall. Acolytes fled the battlefield to avoid the falling debris, though a few unlucky women were crushed under the Autobot's large body.

"And by that, I mean dead and gone!" Kopesh fired an energy blast from his raised first that blew a chunk out of Magnus's shoulder. "You were a fool to fight me, Ambus. You should've made like your brother and chosen a less hazardous occupation!"

Kopesh charged up for another, stronger shot, but was interrupted when Rana ran forward.

"Kopesh, stop! You'll destroy everything we've built here!" Rana yelled. "Please, I beg of you!"

"Out of my way, mortal!" Kopesh snarled.

"Mother?" Nanaa ran into the courtyard and gaped at the destroyed courtyard caused by the two mechs. "Mother, what's going on?"

"No, Nanaa, stay back!" Rana shouted.

Ultra Magnus pushed himself up and ran over to Nanaa to shield her with his body just as Kopesh fired his energy blast. The attack missed Ultra Magnus, but it hurt the wall next to him, sending debris everywhere. Rana, who was standing only inches away from the explosion was engulfed by the blast wave, vanishing in a burst of flames before Nanaa's eyes.

"Mother!" Nanaa cried. Ultra Magnus covered her view with his hand to shield her from her mother's quick but gruesome death.

"Don't lool, Nanaa." Ultra Magnus grunted. "Don't look."

"Yes, look away, little one. You don't want to see what I have planned for your savior." Kopesh grinned, revealing a mouth full of crimson red teeth. Ultra Magnus scowled and stood up.

"Don't take another step." He warned.

"Oh? And what will you do to me if I refuse?" Kopesh laughed. "Read the Autobot code to me word for word?"

"No…this." Ultra Magnus quickly raised his arm, revealing that he retrieved his plasma rifle and fired a shot right at Kopesh's face. The searing hot burst of plasma hit Kopesh in the face, blasting apart his right eye and sent him reeling back in agony.

"You little bastard!" Kopesh snarled. He fell to his knees, clutching his ruined face in pain. Ultra Magnus placed Nanaa back down on the ground before walking over to his target.

"There's nothing little about me." He pointed his rifle at Kopesh's face. "Now surrender…or you'll lose the other eye."

Kopesh glared up at him with pure rage before yelling, "Ba!"

At his command, another four legged mechanoid pounced on Ultra Magnus' back, biting and scratching at his arm and shoulder, making him drop the gun. This cybertronian was a femme with a golden orange body sporting a feline body frame and a feminine face with red lips and redder eyes. Her steel gray wings flapped furiously as she leapt over to Kopesh.

"Until next time, Ambus." Kopesh growled. Placing a hand on his partner's, Ba's, head, their bodies glowed as they were taken away by an orbital bounce. They were already gone by the time Magnus went to stop them.

"Kopesh!" Ultra Magnus roared. His target was gone, again. And like before, he left a pile of bodies in his wake.

XXXXXX

Ultra Magnus did not enjoy explaining to the major mithra clans of Vanadiel why the chief of one of the largest clans in the northern hemisphere was dead along with a half destroyed prominent abode. He went into great deal of Kopesh and his crimes, as well as Rana's role in it all. He made sure to mention that none of them will be implicated for her crimes, as she was the only one aware of her "gods" true nature. Despite this, the other chiefs didn't seem all that distressed at the news. In fact, some discreetly celebrated her sacrifice.

To them, Rana only conspired with the cybertronian criminal because she was slowly helping her people gain the power to fight back the Waster infestation. They didn't say it aloud, but Ultra Magnus could see it in their eyes. Rana's cult looked like it wasn't going to disband, nor were their members brought to justice. No one was going to be condemned…but Ultra Magnus himself. In the eyes of the mithra, he was the murderer of their only chance at victory.

Ultra Magnus made sure they knew he didn't regret his actions. Kopesh had to be exposed before he turned Vanadiel's lush green land red with their blood. He couldn't be allowed to kill more people in his so-called crusade.

Later that day, Ultra Magnus returned to the Steelhaven, which sat outside the city cloaked and covered by trees. As he drove up to it in his alt mode, he saw a tiny figure standing near the clearing where his ship was. It was Nanaa Mihgo. He pulled to a stop and transformed to robot mode, standing to his full height of 38 feet, towering above her. She showed no fear, only anger in her once kind eyes.

"Why?" Nanaa asked.

"Why what?" Ultra Magnus questioned.

"Why did you have to interfere?" She cried. "I know what my mother did was wrong, but…look at us! We were happy! Our people had something to give them hope, a symbol to fight under against the Wasters! I thought the Autobots were supposed to help people, but all you've done was cause us more pain! We have no religion, no symbol, and no god to protect us. What do we have now?"

Ultra Magnus was silent as he watched the girl break down and cry, falling to her knees. After a minute, he asked, "What do you have on you right now?"

Nanaa blinked up at him with red, pussy eyes, her facial fur wet with tears. "W-What?"

"You have two hands, two feet, a pair of eyes and a brain. You have people who look up to _you_ for hope and inspiration. Nanaa, you told me that we should find hope within ourselves, and through suffering we come back stronger, as long as we have the strength to withstand those hardships. Was that just the whimsical ramblings of a priestess, or were they the words of a woman who strived to make her world a better place?"

Nanaa couldn't find anything to say as Ultra Magnus knelt over her.

You don't need a god or a symbol to bring you miracles. You make your own. I'm sorry for what happened to your mother, but she was involved with some dangerous people. However, you're still alive and you can show your people how to stand on their own two feet and walk alongside you to a better future." He stood up and walked over to his ship. "I don't believe in miracles, but some good friends of mine say they come true when people make them a reality."

Ultra Magnus boarded his ship and the spacecraft slowly lifted off a few feet from the ground before its ignition boosters propelled it into the sky. Nanaa watched it go with a thoughtful expression, thinking on his last words.

"We make our own miracles…" She whispered. Oddly enough, those words actually made sense.

Up in Vanadiel's orbit, Ultra Magnus looked down at the planet; beautiful from above, but suffering down below. He tapped his finger on the arm rest of his pilot seat, deep in thought, weighing the potential consequences of his actions. Then he opened a link to regional command.

"Ultra Magnus to Regional Command," He said. "Requesting assault teams to aid local population in repelling insectoid invaders at my coordinates. I'll brief you on the specifics in person."

XXXXXX

In the end, Kopesh got away and Ultra Magnus lost his only lead on him. There was little else Ultra Magnus could do other than go back to his usual routine-hunting down war criminals.

Five years later, he found himself arresting Swindle again on the snow-covered planet Buras. He caught the sly bastard trying to augment the bulky bestial lifeforms with cybernetic implants to sell off-world as living weapons. Thankfully, Ultra Magnus caught him before any lives were lost or destroyed completely.

As he attached the cuffs to Swindle's wrists, Ultra Magnus thought back to the one time he let a criminal go to catch another. A risky gamble that ended in failure overall. Ultra Magnus knew he was dedicated to his job, to hid duty as an officer of the law. But sometimes he wondered…

"Hey, Magnus," Swindle grinned. "Let's deal!"

How far will he go to get the job done?


	12. Hello Darkness

Chapter 11-Hello Darkness

Two binary suns shown tier powerful, unrelenting light down upon a field of crystals. A small lake rested inside a valley, with pale yellow crystals jutting up from the ground like weeds. The prismatic formations refracted light in the most beautiful way only nature could achieve.

The serenity was rudely interrupted by the sound of a metal body hitting the ground. The nameless cyborg, who was more machine than man at this point, had fallen of a ledge, delirious and fatigued. He gave a raspy groan as he pushed himself up to his knees and coughed up some oil. He couldn't last much longer like this.

Then the cyborg heard a faint sound in the distance. He looked up wearily and saw an old, dirty looking four wheeled vehicle rattling along with an odd red symbol on its front hood. Were he more healthy and coherent, he would've recognized the symbol immediately, but at the moment he didn't care. He was saved!

He waved his arms to catch the vehicle's attention, rasping his dry, parched throat in a weak gasp for help. He was pleased to see it slow to a stop in front of him. "Suh-salvation!"

The vehicle pulled to a stop and it slowly broke apart, its four wheeled form reconfiguring into a taller, but just as ravaged bipedal form. The mech was missing multiple pieces of armor on his body and was covered in rust. His face was also old and worn, but that was a feature he had long before coming to this world.

The cyborg fell to his knees before the mech and begged him for assistance. "Friend…friend? My ship…I crash. You help?"

The nameless mech glared down at him through turquoise eyes and raised a long metal appendage (that looked eerily similar to a leg) and swung it as hard as he could.

The cyborg's head bore the same expression of bewilderment as it flew through the air and fell into the lake, its body slumping over at the Autobot's feet. Kup felt no shame in what he did; he couldn't stand another pair of eyes staring into his soul.

XXXXXX

Kup had no idea how long he had been here. The days blurred together seamlessly in the land of two suns. But he was handling it, for each day was another day of the crystals-his crystals-singing to him. He didn't know if anyone else could hear their songs. Maybe they sang for him and him alone. Yeah, that's a nice thought.

Kup drove through the crystal fields, smoke sputtering from his exhaust ports as his rickety alt mode passed through the beautiful crystalline outcroppings. He knew he was old, and age was hell on a bot that didn't do any upgrades to his frame like him. And this whole ordeal was putting his ass to the limit.

'Who was that guy? Was he one of _them_? He didn't look like them. Maybe it was a new fiend come to test me.' Kup thought ceaselessly. 'Naw. Gotta be one of them. Has to be.'

Kup transformed and stepped into the shadow of one of the larger crystals. His knee joints creaked and he felt down in reverence. He ran his hands along its glistening, prismatic surface, as if it was an old lover, once again thanking it for its protection. They kept him safe from…the terrors that came to him that night. Kup never encountered them in the day, when the crystals' singing was at their loudest. He was fine with that. Here he could rest beside the beautiful gemstones. The fear, the paranoia, all gone. Life feels so much brighter because they sing to him. Kup knows that one day soon, they're going to sing him a solution to his problems.

When the sun began to set, Kup bade the crystals a goodbye and drove back to where his makeshift rested on top of a hill. He built this shelter on top of a cluster of crystals, so he could always be near where the singing is loudest. The light that shines through and resonates and pulsates like a strong, viral heart. It's almost enough for him to shutdown. Almost.

Kup used the last two hours of sunlight to make sure his shelter was secure. Because as soon as night fell…they came to make him atone for his sins.

"Ugh," Kup rubbed his eyes. Without their optic lens, his eyes felt like they were on fire, burning and stinging nonstop. A side effect of not sleeping since he got here.

But how could he? Every time he powered down, the terrors would come to take him, devour him. They got stronger as time went on, as he got weaker. It was a wonder he lasted this long with no recharge, no energon, no rest…

"Hey, Outback! How ya doin' buddy?" Kup called out, dust spewing from his dry throat.

Kup greeted his friend inside the shelter. Back when he and his crew crashed onto this planet, when finding a way back home seemed like an option, they decided to build a transmitter. Kup and his crew dragged up junk from their ship and meshed it together into something to send a signal. Long story short, the homemade generator melted down and, well…Outback was the only other survivor.

"How ya feelin?" Kup asked the rusting gray corpse. "Ya see anything?"

Outback sat on his chair as usual, with half his body missing from the explosion. His half melted face was frozen in a scream, part of his head little more than twisted, melted wiring. He never said a word, but Kup knew he was just as tired as he was.

"That's right, buddy, sunset's droppin' fast now." Kup smiled. He laughed at some unspoken joke Outback said. "Ha! Good one, buddy!"

That particular incident taught Kup to respect the crystal's power. Taught him the hard way that blasters and energy weapons just can't be used in this place…no matter what this accursed planet throws at him after dark.

He placed his blunt weapon (which was Outback's right arm) beside his deceased friend and patted the cadaver on the shoulder. He's a good kid, that Outback. Always willing to lend a hand.

Good ol' Outback.

XXXXXX

When night falls, all is silent.

Kup sat on the ground against the wall, in the dark, with no stimulation for his old Spark. No music, no distance left to run. Exhaustion rushed to meet him and he accepted it. He needed to recharge at least once. He closed his eyes and let his systems power down one by one.

" **Kuup…"**

And just like every other night, just as he's about to go under, that's when it starts.

" **Kuuup…"**

" **KUUUP!"**

Kup woke up immediately and he saw that green light hovering over him. A ghost of some kind. One of them had to be dead, but he wasn't sure who.

" **We're coming to get you, Kup! Do your hear me? Stay right there. We're coming for you."**

Kup huddled up against the wall, trying to block out the unearthly apparition. He chanted "You're not real" repeatedly until the ghost faded away, leaving him in darkness again. Then he heard them…

" _Kup."_

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…" He whimpered. Kup didn't believe in ghosts, but these things were real. He crawled over to the wall and peeked outside one of the openings.

There were seven of them. Were there more this time? He couldn't tell anymore. They all had large red eyes, gaunt black forms that were made from tangible shadows, and raspy voices that never shut up. Kup closed his eyes to block out their calls of his name.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Kup muttered. Can't they just leave him along? He turned to Outback, who sat in his usual spot, not bothered by this madness at all. "Outback, do something!"

Outback didn't do anything.

"Why won't you do something?!" Kup shouted. He needed to think, but he couldn't focus. "Damn you, Outback."

The demons always hovered around his abode, but they never tried to come in. they could just stand out there, violating his name with their utterance of it. They never came in. but tonight, they're particularly persistent.

Basic instincts said shoot them all down. Get gun. Use gun. But Kup resisted the urge, knowing a stray shot could damage the crystals. And he couldn't bear to lose their heavenly songs ever again. He grabbed a weapon, a sharp one, and ran over to the wall. A bony hand stuck inside and Kup glared at it with all the hatred in his entire being.

"Leave me alone!" He swung his axe and severed the arm at the elbow. "Go away!"

He closed all the openings and huddled in the corner. They still called his name, but no attempts to enter his home had been made. He was so tired, but he couldn't rest knowing that they were out there. Haunting him.

Then it stops. All quiet.

Kup jerked awake as sunlight poured through the roof, reflecting off one of the smaller crystals outside. It's morning. Kup began to laugh as he heard the music again. He made it through another night.

XXXXXX

Kup left his home and transformed, grunting in exertion as he forced his body to reshape into his alt mode. It hurt to transform, but his sense of urgency was greater than the pain.

He drove for about a mile before transforming to robot mode and falling onto his back. He let the serene music of the crystals wash the filth of last night's horrors from him. He laid out, sprawled across the ground, trying to take all of it in. All of it.

The way his Spark responded to it was euphoric. It showed him how different he felt now in contrast to when he first got there. Back then he was weak, protoforms weak. He was fading in and out from the crash with Outback nursing him. But time passed, and now… now he was aware of every pulsing atom of his ancient Spark, every fibrillating surge sent him someplace between being sharp and vital and being washed over with bliss. He'd do anything to feel like this all the time.

Kup was in heaven. The sun was in the sky. Songs flowed through his soul. But he knew the sun would set. And the nightmare would begin again. He looked to his left and brushed his hand against one of the crystals.

"What can I do to keep the sun from setting?" He asked it. "Tell me."

He won't let them take it away from him.

XXXXXX

Day, then night. And soon it began again.

The green ghost was back, making its promises as always. Kup idly noted that it looked like some misshapen version of Springer.

" **Soon, Kup, soon."** The ghost said.

"Go away." Kup groaned.

" **We'll be there soon,"** It said. " **I promise you that."**

Even as a ghost, he's true to his word. Kup heard them again, calling his name, shuffling outside. The unholy bastards. He heard a clatter and saw a hand reach inside. Damn it, he forgot to secure the shutters!

"Don't you even want to help?" Kup yelled at Outback. "Don't you even care?"

Kup grabbed his macabre weapon and grabbed the arm as he continued speaking to his dead friend. "Don't you love the music enough to fight for it? No? well I do..." He pulled hard and dragged the demon through the wall by the arm. "I do!"

He bashed the demon's head in with his weapon over and over until its skull caved in and blue liquid splattered across his face. Kup was too enraged to notice that its black skin hid circuitry underneath the cracked skull or that the liquid spraying everywhere looked a lot like energon. When he finally stopped, he glared at Outback, who stared at him with his only intact eye.

"What are you lookin' at?" He shouted.

Outback wisely said nothing.

Kup saw shadows fall over him and looked up to see two more demons looming in the open hole where the wall used to be.

"You think you can be here? You think I'll allow this to happen in my house?" Kup snarled. He swung his axe and knocked the head right off one of the demon's shoulders. "In my house?!"

Kup went berserk, punching and stabbing and ripping and biting like a savage robotic animal. He didn't know where this newfound strngth came from, but he was glad it came. He'd never been through this much exertion since crashing on this planet, and his body, which was barely holding itself together as is, couldn't go on any longer. He felt a painful lurch in his chest and a bright light burst from his Spark core.

Pain eruped in his chest as his Spark core suffered a meltdown and his body's repair systems quickyly enacted emergency stabilizers. Kup grinned as he saw the last of the demons running away from him.

"Hhhh…now you know…what it's like…to stare straight into another mech's heart!" Kup shouted at it's fleeing form.

The demon stumbled down the slope before pressing a finger to its chest, its form vanishing in a burst of light.

' **Orbital jump activated.'**

XXXXXX

Siren reappered in the Stormclash's decontamination room inside a cleansing field around him to rid his body of any residual radiation. He yanked off the helmet of his pitch blaack rad-protection armor and threw it to the floor in a bout of frustration. Perceptor watched him seeth for a few minutes before turning back to his work.

"Well?" Asked Perceptor.

"Dead. All dead. I'm all there is, what there is of me." Siren grumbled. He hissed as sparks shot out of his arm. "Is this what it's come to, Perceptor? Autobots being used as cannon fodder to facilitate some foolhardy crusade?"

"Siren," Perceptor sighed.

"Don't, Perceptor!" Siren yelled. "Once Springer get's here, I'm gonna kick his-"

"Springer just got here." The Wrecker commander marched through the doors looking no more happy about the results that Siren. "And I'm eager to know what sort of mess you and the rest of the Sotrmclash crew are making of this exercise, Perceptor. When autobot intelligence sent word that Kup had been found after all this time, I thought I could trust you and your team with the task of retrieving him."

Perceptor wasn't fazed by Springer's attitude. "Well, if you come with me, I can brief you on what-"

"Brief you? Oh, allow me," Siren spat scornfully. "The whole planet is a time bomb. The crystalline make-up of the planet is juammed with the same energy that's fiving of the radiation that's fried his brain. And it's more volatile than raw energon. We can't fire a weapon in case we blow the entire rock up and we can't risk that old coot's Spark going into meltdown for the same reason." He growled. "We try waiting till he's offline to get him, but his proximity sensors tell him we're there. His loose wiring tells him we're a threat, so he reached into his reserves and it all kicks off. There shouldn't be any fight left in 'im, he hasn't recharged in who knows how long, but just now I watched my team die as his nocturnal energy readongs roared to daytime levels."

Springer frowned at all this. That planet was ripping Kup from the inside out. "Stealth armor not an option?"

"Oh yea, great idea. Except that the intense radiation on the planet interferes with the cloaking moduleation. All we got is this antique anti-rad armor that we need to stop our systems from going the same way his did." Siren stpped up to the edge of the field, glaring into Springer's bright blue eyes. "And just what has been your contribution to all this, _sir_? You promised us backup. A specialist, you said. And where the hell are the Wreckers during all this slag?"

"The other side of the galaxy, protecting bots like you from the real big bad." Springer replied in an equally frosty tone. "I've been trying to communicate with Kup via a hacked signal to Outback's holo-emitter, but I've got no idea whether that's worked. As for the specialist, he's on his way."

"This better be worth it to someone, somewhere. Cause facing death at the hands of a fellow Autobot? At his hands of all bots?" Siren shook his head. "No one deserves that, Springer. No one."

XXXXXX

Later on, Springer stood in the command center of his ship having a not-so welcome chat with Prowl, who was calling in from Cybertron.

"I know how much Kup means to you, Spinger," Prowl said. "But-"

"Cut the slag, Prowl." Springer spat at the tactician's face. "If you did, you'd support this mission."

"Autobot High Command isnt in the buisness of supporting suicide, Springer."

"Oh, I forgot. You're High Command0always been. High Command my tail fin." The Wrecker growled. Prowl's blasé, detatched attitude always rubbed him the wrong way, and he wasn't in the mood for it right now. "You owe Kup a hell of a lot, too. Or has your memory of being a lowly cadet serving under him been overwritten by your ever-upgrading pipewad subroutine?"

"I'm not the one in denial about my past, Springer." Prowl replied.

Of course that retort threw Springer off. "That…that's not the isuse here."

"Correct. This issue is this caseless folly you label a rescue mission. Why are you so hellbent on retrieving an autobot whose cerebral processors have rotted away from radiation poisoning, and whose body is a shambling relic of unrepairable, incompatible junk?" Prowl sighed and crossed his arms, trying to at least be sympathetic. "He's lived his life, Springer. Let him go."

"No!" Springer yelled. "He means to much!"

"To you, maybe."

"You Sparkpless piece of scrap. Not just to me, to every Autobot."

"The same Autobots who died needlessly at his hands? Come on, Springer. I've turned a blind eye long enough." Prowl coldly said. "It's all I can do to prevent Prime from learning about this. He'd never approve of such a mission."

Springer was ready for this line of discussion. "If you've believed that for a nano-second, Prowl, you'd have squealed already. But we both know that if you did that, he'd be on that planet right now withouth a plate of anti-rad armor doing everything to bring Kup home, right? Right?"

Prowl and Springer glared at each other, and Springer knew he won the argument. If there was anything else he knew ticked off Prowl, it was that Optimus was a hands-on commander who always jumped into the fray, instead of hanging back like most commanders shoulder. Prowl hid his irritation well, but Springer could tell from the minute tenseness in his arms and shoulders that it irked him.

"Very well, Springer. I shall leave matters in your capable hands. If you can justify and accept the vast loss resources and life, on your own head be it. But I think you know this can't continue. Right now, the talents of the leader of the Wreckers could be put to more fruitful use with his team." Prowl said, giving his own little jab. "That would reallly be serving your fellow Autobots. Prowl out."

Prowl's holo-image vanished, leaving Springer in total darkness in the shuttle's bridge. Springer kicked the console and grumbled. "Fragging cog suckeer. Had to have the last word in, huh?"

Perceptor, who had been watching the conversation from the doorway, spoke up. "Springer, I'm afriad Prowl's assessment of the scenario is correct."

"Look, I know, alright? But it's not just me that Kup's trained out there. There's Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, Ultra Magnus, Rodimus…Prime himself for crying out loud!" Springer exclaimed. "This is for them, too. We, the Autobots, owe it to him."

"I understand, Springer. But perhaps what you owe Kup is to stay true to the ideals and values he imparted to you all." Perceptor placed a hand on Springer's prominent yellow shoulder. "A dogged belief in never giving up may be a virtue he extolled, but at the cost of your comrades' lives? What would he think of all this?"

'He'd be utterly apalled and disappointed.' Springer thought. Kup always believed in getting the mission done by any means necessary, but he also drew the line when it came to wasting lives to do it. "I…"

"Springer!" Cloudburst ran into the room. "Springer, he's here. His ship docked a demi-cycle ago."

Hope returned to Springer's face and his signature cocky grin returned. "Yes!"

"What?" Perceptor asked. "What is it?"

"Backup." Springer grinned.

XXXXXX

The green ghost was back again tonight, making more of its accursed promises. **"Kup, just hang on. Don't fight it."** It pleaded. " **It's nearly over. We're bringing you home."**

As soon as the ghost vanished, more demons approached him from the outside, muttering his name in their dark tones, vowing to bring him back to whatever hellish realm they came from. Kup wanst going to hold back on them this time.

"Well then," Kup said as his pushed himself up on shaky legs. "Come get me."

Something was different, he realized as he hacked away at the demons. Every pulse of his Spark told him…this was it. He put all of his strength into each swing of his axe, beheading one of them. Another demon took a swaipe at him, but he jumped back, accidentally allowing for his talons to cut Outback's body in half. The already rusting mech fell to th eground in pieces at Kup's feet.

"Outback!" Kup shouted. He growled and tapped into that inner strength he felt before and attacked more ferociously, stabbing two more in the chest. One trie to grab his shoulder, but a quick over the shoulder throw impaled the onster on one of the crystals.

"Agh!" Kup doubled over as his Spark core went into meltdown again and light burst from his chest. "No…"

The pain was more intense this ime, but his Spark kept them at bay. His Spark was pure, and these monsters hate him for it. He felt his body weakening. He yearned for the sun's rays but it'd be of no use. The end was near. He'd hear their song no more.

Kup staggered away from the demons, who cowered from his pure light. He stumbled towards the front door. If he was going to be driven out, it'd be through his own front-

"Kup."

A golden light filled Kup's vision, and it took him a moment to realize who it was. A black and red mech with a red visor surrounded by a crackling energy field.

"Hey," Trailbreaker grinned. "Can I borrow a quart of Engex?"

Kup blinked as he recognized the young mech. "Trailbreaker-ack!"

Kup's body froze and he fell back as his Spark reached critical meltdown. Trailbreaker quickly caught him before he hit the ground.

"Aw slag. It's all gonna go off." Trailbreaker muttered. "Hang on, Kup."

He opened Kup's chest plate and extended his force field to Kup's Spark core. Drawing upon some energy from his own Spark, Trailbreaker sent a quick surge of energy into the mech's failing Spark. A quick rescitation that stopped Kup's Spark from melting down.

"Ha! I got it! I got…Kup? Kup!" Kup wasn't moving and his eyes were dark. "Scrap. Springer, we got an emergency!"

At his signal, Trailbreaker and Kup were taken back up to the Stormclash via orbital jump. They reappeared in the ship's med bay, where Springer and Perceptor were waiting eagerly.

The last thing the half dead Kup saw was the jagged, misshapen form of the green ghost that tormented so, whispering comforting words to him.

" **We got you, old timer…we got you…"**

XXXXXX

Springer and Trailbreaker walked towards the Sotrmclash's med bay after the latter finished his decontamination bath.

"It was actually rather straight forward-extend a localized field around his crashing Spark…no dead Kup. No planet-wide chain reaction. I guess it sounds easy when you put it that way." Trailbreaker shrugged.

"Well, I owe you, Trailbreaker, you're the only one that could've done it. Just wish I'd waited for you to be free from your duties before I pushed for this mission to go ahead." Springer sighed.

Trailbreaker looked at him empathetically. "Springer…"

"Idiot. Letting my feelings get in the way. He's the only Autobot I'd do this for, lay it all on the line, just to go some way to repay him." Springer shook his head.

"And his current condition?"

"Well, he's been fitted with a placeholder powercore, just to maintain his Spark." He answered. "But with his considerable age, and his stubbornness to upgrade over the years, most of his mechanisms are incompatible with modern cybertronian tech."

Trailbreaker winced. Most of the war's combatants had to be majorly retrofitted with foreign materials for repair at least once in their lifetimes. Very few bots could boast still having a body that was at least 85% of their original protoforms they were born with. Kup was one of those bots, the oldest who was skilled enough at his job to avoid such major operations. "And his mind?"

"That may never heal." Springer scowled. Trailbreaker sighed.

"Look, I'm not judging, Springer," He said as they stopped in front of a CR chamber.

"No, but everyone else will, and so will history, I guess. And what would he think if he knew what I sanctioned just to get him back, in this state?" Springer looked through the small viewing window at Kup, who was connected to so many machines that only part of his head and shoulders were visible. "Look at him. Trapped-mind, body and soul…"

Springer exhaled and closed his eyes after burning the image of Kup's ravaged, derelict body into his mind. "…Was it worth it?"


	13. Samsara

Chapter 12-Samsara

Bludgeon was a mech who had faith in the divine. He strongly believed that all things had a creator; every living organism, man-made object, planet, star, galaxy, it was all created and maintained by some being or a host of beings. Gods who walk unseen among mortals.

Bludgeon wasn't always an avid believer in gods. Back when he was just another one of Yoketron's pupils, he barely had any faith in Cybertron's so-called myths and legends, especially those about Primus and his Guiding Hand. Back in Cybertron's twilight era, he blamed the world's misfortunes on these "gods", calling them cruel for creating such a sad, flawed race.

Then he heard the Voices.

He knew not who whispered to them, or their cause, but every night when he slept, his mind could be assaulted by vivid images-visions of a far-off world, populated by beings made of stone warring amongst each other, and later with other races. Ripping, tearing, stabbing dismembering, maiming, beheading-so many ways to die, to torture, to kill. It all drove him mad in just a few nights. Along with these visions were soft, but strong whispers, different voices speaking at once, creating a cacophony of noise that rattled his brain. He didn't know what any of these visions meant, but upon seeing the power of these beings, it could only mean one thing…they were gods.

This began his lifelong obsession with finding out the nature of the Voices. Yoketron couldn't help him, meditation and ancient proverbs didn't do a damn thing to answer his questions. When it was clear the old fossil didn't have what he needed, he left the dojo and travel across Cybertron for historical records that could've had some hint of what he saw in his dreams. When that fell flat, he had to search what ancient ruins that weren't completely destroyed by the senate's constant blundering; he went from one end of the Badlands to the next, from Darkmount to Polyhex, to the old First Church monasteries in the deep canyons of Mount Kran at the tail end of the Manganese Mountains, and had even attempted to find answers in the Hall of Records.

Alpha Trion had rebuffed his sharply before he could get any farther than the first floor, and even now Bludgeon doubted that a battle between him and the Archivist, his instincts told him that he wouldn't emerge unscathed. It was probably a wise decision on his part.

Centuries passed. He harvested two protoforms from a lone hot spot and raised them as his assassins, Slice and Dice, and continued his crusade to find answers. As time passed, the visions slowly wore away at his sanity more and more. The violent images were agonizing, and he could feel the pain of each death he saw. But what were they? Was he watching a war on some distant world, or from Cybertron's past? So many questions and no answers. Why did the gods torture him so?

He thought he found his answers with Soundwave, a lone outlier with enhanced senses who could read minds. Surely, this was a sign from the gods that sent him as an interpreter to decipher his visions. Of course, Soundwave lacked the fortitude to truly stay on the true path. Those accursed animals he traveled with stole him away and he lost Slice and Dice in the ensuing battle. He probably lost his only chance to understand his dreams, and now he was doomed to live out an eternity never knowing, never understanding. Forever lost.

Then the war began, and everything began to unravel.

XXXXXX

Bludgeon knelt in his quarters, which consisted of just a recharge slab, a weapons rack, a desk and a mirror on the wall, praying to his nameless gods. Painted around the mirror was an intricate symbol; a black circle that morphed into dark crimson around the edges, shaped like a flower in bloom. To a human, it would bare a deep resemblance to a lotus flower.

This pattern was a recurring element in his dreams, it clearly meant something. Alas, its purpose was just another one of the thousands of questions he needed answers, but was lost on how. Whatever the case, its relation to the "gods" meant that it had a divine nature and thus, deserved his respect.

Then a knock on the door interrupted his peace and quiet. "Bludgeon! Open up!"

Few were foolish enough to cut into his prayer time, and Bludgeon knew who did it deliberately to piss him off. Orange eyes flashing, he stood up and walked to his door, opening it to reveal a mech with dark blue/green armor forged in a stylized oriental design similar to Yoketron.

"Banzaitron," Bludgeon growled. "What do you want?"

"For you to do your job. Strika wants a word with you, now." Banzaitron said coldly. "That is, if you can spare some time from your fasting."

"If you're going to insult me, boy, do it to my face. Subtlety isn't your strong point in that regard." Bludgeon pushed him aside and exited his quarters. "And neither is fighting, from what I hear."

Banzaitron's eyes narrowed, but he didn't rise to the masked challenge. Every fiber of his being wanted to challenge Bludgeon and tear him apart in the most humiliating way possible, but there was a time and place for everything. And one day, he was going to tear Bludgeon's Spark from his chest and show him if his so-called gods were real or not.

Bludgeon stepped into the command center of the massive orbital base that was at the frontlines of Decepticon controlled territory above the planet Charr. While it served the same function as Autobot HQ, it was constructed to look like a fortress than a space station, and in typical Decepticon fashion, just the mere sight of it was supposed to instill fear and demoralize all to dare challenge them on their home turf.

The command center was dark and ominous, thanks to the dim lighting and purple hue of the solar powered lights. Some less combat oriented bots were at their stations monitoring the base's functions and studying their forces out on the field. Standing on the main deck overseeing everything were the two Decepticon generals, Strika and Obsidian.

Strika was a large, bulky, dark purple femme who stood taller than most average Cons, possibly rivaling Optimus Prime in that regard. Her heavily armored form screamed strength and durability, and her red eyes glowed with authorian discipline and rigid order. Her conjux endura, Obsidian, was her total opposite. He was shorter and lankier, with dark blue and red armor, lacking legs in place of his alt mode's tail rotor that kept him aloft. Whereas Strika represented militaristic strength and order, Obsidian represented strategy and patience. They complemented each other's skills perfectly, and though they didn't display their affections, it was clear they cared for one another as lovers and soldiers. It was no wonder Shockwave put them in charge of field operations.

"You called for me, generals?" Bludgeon said. Strika looked down on him with a steely gaze that would terrify weaker bots, but Bludgeon met his gaze with one of his own without problem.

"Bludgeon," Strika's fluent, but strong accent smoothly glossed over his name as she looked him over. "Are you on any prolonged assignments at the moment?"

"No, I'm free for the moment." He answered. "What task do you have for me?"

"Just recently, we've lost contact with one of our mining teams on the moon Gebera in Quadrant 24.126." Obsidian explained, bringing up a hologram of a gas giant with seven moons. He pointed a skinny red finger at the fifth moon. "The mining team was laying the foundation for the relay station on the moon when their signal cut out. We've already sent three retrieval teams, but they've also disappeared."

"And recon teams?"

"Four were sent, none came back." Strika replied, crossing her large arms. "You can see we're in a bit of a bind."

"And you want me to investigate." Bludgeon stated. Now he could see where this was going. "What makes you think that what happened to those seven teams won't happen to me?"

"Because you are a warrior who's been through hell and back. You are a fighter," Obsidian remarked. "You are not."

"This is no recon mission, Bludgeon." Strike said. "You are to locate, identify, and eliminate this threat. With a mech of your renowned skill, it should be no problem."

Bludgeon looked back at Strika and Obisdian and nodded. He needed something to occupy his time aside than butting heads with Banzaitron. "I will go, but what if I don't find anything?"

"You'll find something, Bludgeon." Strika growled. "I know indiscriminate killing when I see it. But this is not. Someone's sending a message and it's your job to find out who sent it, and what they want."

XXXXXX

Bludgeon traveled to Gebera within the hour. He took the shuttle Obsidian commissioned for him, but refused any additional personnel. He wasn't going to be weighed down by a bunch of mechs who cried the minute they dropped their gun.

As the ship traveled through fold space, Bludgeon heard the Voices again. They spoke to him, delivered more images to him. But things were different this time, the visions he had were of his destination. Gerbera's lush vegetation, and the outpost…or what was left of it. As quickly as they came, the visions went away, briefly replaced by a group of smooth, pale faces of feminine quality laughing and giggling at him. They gazed at him through dead, sightless eyes of precious gemstones and beckoned him to join them in heavenly bliss.

Bludgeon did not know what all this was, but he knew it was possibly something that would benefit him in the long run. His ship left fold space and reappeared within Toldera's orbit.

The planet Toldera was a gas giant that had seven moons, with only one having the ability to support life. Though the planet lied in what the humans called the "Goldilocks Zone" Gebera was the only one that could be habitable. From pole to pole, the moon had two continents that were covered in huge swaths of green vegetation. These dense jungles were untouched since the life hadn't evolved out of his aquatic stage.

Bludgeon landed his ship in the same region where the mining outpost was supposed to be located. The facility was of the basic aesthetic, a large purple base with sharp looking buildings reminiscent of Kaon's architecture. Bludgeon thought it ironic that for all the Decepticons' talk about wiping out the old and bringing in the new, they sure were dead set on recreating the Badlands wherever they went.

Looking around, it was clear that a large battle had taken place. The ground was black with scorch marks from incendiary weapons and energy bolts, huge swaths of land uprooted as if a giant plow dug through the soft earth here. The perimeter wall had been demolished, and some body parts were strewn across the half finished courtyard like seeds. It was obvious that the Cons here were brutally killed, but he couldn't find any sign of what attacked them.

He knelt down and grabbed a handful of dirt, holding it to his nose. He sniffed it and his olfactory sensors computed the compounds detected in the soil. There were faint traces of some unidentified energy laced in the soil that certainly wasn't residue from some cybertronian energy weapon. It wasn't focused or amplified light, this energy was too pure, too fluid to have been generated by technology.

"I need to find more signs." Bludgeon muttered. He looked to the forest and saw more signs of battle leading into the dense foliage. His danger senses rose as he stood up and followed the carnage into the jungle, knowing that he was possibly led into a trap.

XXXXXX

One hour passed.

He scouted the area nonstop, yet found very little in the way of answers. He could see some signs of the battle, the scattered remains of the unlucky Cons corralled into the jungle and, by his estimate, hunted down one by one and dismembered. Bludgeon was starting to get frustrated, and that rarely happened. Although, it wasn't just because of his lack of results in finding anything useful in the search.

The Voices that haunted him so were always whispering to him, day and night, and they were always in the back of his mind, trying to guide his thoughts onto some unknown path. It drove him up the wall, of course, but he had gotten used to it over time. However, ever since he got to Gerbera, he heard nothing. His mind was silent, and the silence was possibly more painful than the assaults on his mind every night. Why did they abandon him? Was it because of this moon? The nature of his mission? Bludgeon did not believe in coincidences, he believed in fate. Fate led him here for a reason, a reason that's related to the silence gnawing away at his brain.

The rustle of leaves made him pause and tense up, reaching for his swords. That sense of danger returned, and Bludgeon knew he was being watched. His eyes scanned the area for signs of movement, but he couldn't get a visual on anybody. This was an ambush, but where would it be coming from?

Just as he got a firm grip on his sword, Bludgeon saw a black blur rush at him from the canopy. In a heartbeat, he drew his sword and held it up defensively to block the strike aimed at his head. Something sharp clanged off his blade and made his skid back, almost knocking him out of his stance. Before he could right himself, he saw a green flash shot at him from the bushes, hitting his blade again. Another came at his back and that was barely blocked. Another from his right. Another from the front. Right. Left. Front. Back. The beams he couldn't block hit him like piercing darts, blasting off bits of armor, but hardly anything lethal. But they grew in intensity each passing minute.

Just as he took another beam to his shoulder, he saw another black blur sprint at him like a flash of lightning. Bludgeon moved to cut it down, but a punch to his face knocked him back. He hit a tree and jumped aside to avoid a golden flash that tore through the trunk with ease. Another blur fell on him from above and he flipped away from it, slashing at his attack. Bludgeon felt his blade hit something hard-stone?-and jumped back to gain some distance between him and his attackers. That was when something sprang out of the foliage and ran at him.

Time slowed down when Bludgeon saw the appearance of his attacker-one of them-in full view. The creature was just a few feet shorter than he was; bipedal like him, shaped like an attractive female appearance sporting what many humans would call the ideal female shape. Her body was made of smooth, black onyx, cracked in some places with ample curves. She had no eyes, only a ruby in the center of her face, above her red painted mouth. Hair as black as midnight fell down her back and her movements were like those of a mirage, distorted and hard to predict. Though Bludgeon didn't know it, this being was a dolem warrior, Maya when its name is translated in the human tongue.

Maya came at Bludgeon and attacked with her scarves, each one hitting his swords like a real blade, and Bludgeon countered. He couldn't touch her, for she was quick and nimble, his blades passing through her afterimages instead of her crystalline body.

"What is your purpose here, creature?!" Bludgeon demanded, fed up with this game she was playing. "Where did you come from?"

Maya only smiled and jumped back. Bludgeon tried to chase after her, but she waved her hand and a thin, dark green whip of energy wrapped around his arm. With a mighty yank, he was pulled off his feet, thrown around the air as if he didn't weigh a couple of tons and hit a tree. He pulled her toward him to cut her in half, but she spun around in the air and kicked him in the head. He retaliated with a quick jab to her shoulder, chipping away some of her skin. She spun around and dug her heel into his collar.

'Every time I attack, she hits back!' Bludgeon thought. He ignored the pain in his shoulder and prepared to run her through for a final strike, but then he noticed something.

Maya had friends. Four of them. They all looked exactly like her, and were sitting in the trees, watching him with sightless gazes and taunting smirks. Bludgeon's eyes grew wide. These beings…were from one of his visions!

XXXXXX

Two hours passed.

Bludgeon was sitting inside a cave as it rained heavily outside. His armor was covered in deep cuts leaking energon, his limbs ached from trying to keep his sword in hand from the powerful strikes the Maya dealt him. One of his swords was lost in the scuffle to avoid having his arm severed in his retreat. They didn't chase him into the cave, but he knew they were still watching him, waiting for him to come out. They could easily storm this cave in seconds, but chose to torment him instead.

Bludgeon felt a feeling he rarely experienced in his long, tortuous life-fear. These beings moved with an immortal grace and speed yet attacked with a robotic ferocity that took him by surprise. He didn't know what they were, but they were formidable. They read his movements and countered efficiently. He could barely handle one of them, let alone five at once. And they pursued him ceaselessly like a pneuma-lion chasing its prey, and he could do nothing but run and hide.

It frightened him…but also filled him with an exhilarating thrill that he hadn't felt in ages. Never had death felt so close before, close enough to feel its cold breath on the back of his neck. The thought made him chuckle coldly. If death was paying him a visit, then it would only be fair to give him a show.

Peeking outside, Bludgeon scanned the landscape cloaked under a heavy downpour that made it hard to see very far. He couldn't see them, but he could sense them clearly enough. In the distance just north of his position was a giant dirt mound formed by massive subterranean beasts that roamed the underworld of Gerbera. On foot, he could probably outrun them, much more than his tank mode. He wasn't going to risk his treads losing traction in the wet ground and spinning him out of control. He could make it, so long as he kept his eyes forward and didn't look back.

He got into a low crouch, tensing his servo motors for a strong spring to get him going. Bludgeon kept his eyes on the falling raindrops, waiting for the right moment to run. Then…once he saw the last raindrop hit the ground, he pushed off his toes and ran.

Each step fell in place with the pulses of his Spark. Each pulse timed perfectly with the raindrops, now falling slower to him. Time had slowed and he closed his eyes, increasing the input of his audio array to hear past the heavy pitter patter of the rain. He heard every water droplet hit the wet dirt, every impact of the raindrops against the tall trees, their leaves and the vines. He heard his footsteps hitting the ground like hammers, heels digging trenches into the mud, servo-motors whirling in exertion. He ran as fast as he could, but time slowed down to him. Then he heard…them.

The five Maya, all chasing after him like wraiths haunting a tormented soul in hell. The black demons of solid ebony did not attack, they only seemed content with chasing him. Perhaps they knew where he was going. Perhaps they enjoyed the idea of hunting him in a confined space such as a cave system. Bludgeon did not know, but he wasn't going to let them kill him without a fight. Let them follow. He was ready for them now.

He will hunt those who hunt him

XXXXXX

Three hours passed.

The giant mound was a huge lump of earth pushed up by natural rock formations, and carved out by ancient subterranean creatures, mostly likely beasts resembling giant worms, by drilling through the hard rock to make their homes. The minute Bludgeon entered the tunnel network, he vanished into the darkness, ready and waiting for his pursuers.

He wasn't left waiting. The five Maya came walking through the entrance, their dainty feet idly following his trail life bloodhounds sniffing out a strong scent. Seeing the different paths to take, they split up, with one of them going down the same tunnel Bludgeon entered.

She walked down the pitch black tunnel, though the darkness did not hinder her movements. The amethyst gem in the center of her face glowed bright enough to light her way…and also give away her position. There was little room to move and the only exists were in front and behind her. It was the perfect place for an ambush-something Bludgeon immediately capitalized on. Silent as a leaf in fall, he jumped out of his hiding place and slashed his sword. The blade dug into her shoulder with a loud screech and severed her arm in a flurry of sparks.

The Maya lashed her emerald whip and green sparks flew in his face as he deflected her attack. They traded quick strikes that lit their dark surroundings like fireworks, the metallic clanging of their clashing weapons echoing throughout the tunnel. Bludgeon fought hard, remaining on the defensive as he waited for his moment to land a mortal blow that would give him his victory.

And he found it. When the Maya threw her remaining arm forward, he spun behind her guard and stabbed his sword into the middle of her chest. She gave a high pitched shriek, but he quickly pulled his blade free and delivered a strong slash to her neck, biting through her stone flesh and severing her head in one swipe. The body fell forward and hit the ground, shattering into tiny pieces. Underneath the onyx skin was the reddest rubies Bludgeon had ever seen, and they too turned grey as life ebbed from the dolem.

Sensing that he lost his element of surprise, Bludgeon tilted his head and heard the sound of footsteps running towards him. The others were coming. He grinned and ran back out the tunnel, his bloodlust returning as he prepared to face these worthy foes. They can be killed. He still had a chance!

He ran up the rocky slope to the second level of the nest, but then the wall next to him exploded. Three emerald whips shot at his head and chest, but Bludgeon leapt back far enough so that he only got a shallow cut on his chest, before reaching forward and grabbing the whips. The Maya that sent them was yanked forward into the punch aimed at her face. They fell to the lower level, and Bludgeon pulled her in close, angling their bodies so that she could act as his cushion.

But he wasn't counting on the other Maya appearing, grabbing onto them and increasing their weight. Bludgeon kicked her off just as they hit the ground. The force of their impact sent them crashing through the rock and into the lower caves underneath the mound. Bludgeon lost his grip and fell by himself, falling into the darkness.

XXXXXX

Four hours passed.

Bludgeon used the darkness of this cavern to hide his presence. No longer stricken with exhaustion, he was running on overcharge now. His mind, no longer tormented by the silence that plagued him, was now as sharp as his sword. He was going to fight and die as a warrior, and finally meet the deities that spoke to him.

He could hear them now, the Maya. Three remained, combing the cavern with only their head gems providing light. They weren't playing around as much as they were earlier. They weren't expecting him to kill one of them. The time for games was over, and the real hunt began.

'Good,' He thought. 'Then they'll know that I'm no regular grunt they can scare into submission.'

He didn't move a finger; not a twitch, not a shudder, he even powered down his actuators to lower the noise his gears gave off. He was as dead as the bones that littered the floor, with only tiny florescent plants guiding his way. He couldn't see them, but he could hear them. They were coming…coming…

Bludgeon leapt into the air just as the three Maya pounced on him. He deflected their whips with his blade, flipping back onto his feet. They all attacked at once, trying to tear him apart limb from limb, slashing and stabbing with sharp talons and diamond hard fists. One of them waved her hand and an ivory chain of ether wrapped around his leg. Like a mace, he was thrown through the air, smashing through stalactites and boulders. He cut himself free and landed on his feet. The Maya with the chain whipped her weapon and the chain tore through the cavern, tearing trenches into the ground. Bludgeon flipped out of their way and transformed to his tank mode, landing hard on the ground. He wasted no time in firing his cannon at an oncoming Maya, hitting it square in the chest with a plasma shell. She broke apart like priceless china and her parts scattered across the cavern. He didn't even wait for it to completely break apart into ash before reverting to robot mode and running back into the tunnels.

Bludgeon didn't look back as he ran; picking a tunnel at random and hoping that he wouldn't run into a dead end. He naturally followed the tunnels that sloped upwards, thinking that they might lead back to some opening to the surface. He didn't hear them chasing after him, but he didn't slow down for anything.

After turning a couple of corners, he was elated to see the light of day up ahead. Sprinting for the light, he almost didn't see the spear shooting toward his head until the last minute. Ducking forward, he allowed the spear to shoot over his back before jumping back up and backhanding the Maya that tried to impale him. Grabbing her head, he heaved and twisted her head all the way around, tearing it off her shoulders and smashing it to the ground. He pushed the corpse aside, and cursed when the last Maya charged at him and stabbed a long, sharp emerald blade into his torso.

The blade barely nicked his T-cog, but punctured his fuel pump, causing a serious energon leak that could lead to him bleeding out if he didn't finish this quick. Gasping in pain, he gripped his sword and gave a savage war cry. "I will not die here!"

Using all of his strength, Bludgeon slashed his sword in a wide arc that sent out a wave of energy that bisected the last Maya at the waist. Red dust spewed from where she was cut in a beautifully gory display, and Bludgeon used this to grab her head and smash her against the wall repeatedly. He didn't stop until the ebony skull in his hand was nothing but dust and powder in his fingers. He let the rest of the body fall, where it crumbled to pieces.

His fight done, Bludgeon coughed and limped towards the end of the tunnel, energon leaking from his wound by the gallon. Each step felt heavier than the last. It was getting difficult to move, but he willed himself to go on. He could still see the light…the light…the…

XXXXXX

It felt like an eternity when Bludgeon awoke to the real world. He found himself lying on a stone slab in a small, windowless room. It was scaled to his size, obviously, and it had an ancient, rustic feel about it that reminded him of Yoketron's dojo in Kalis. Even still, he remained cautious and alert.

The wounds in his shoulder and abdomen were healed, good as new. He felt re-energized and refreshed from his harrowing ordeal. But his weapons were nowhere to be found. Taken during his recovery, no doubt. Bludgeon looked around, trying to gauge where he was. This place looked too…primitive to belong to the Autobots or Decepticons, and Gerbera had no native species…in fact, was he even on Gerbera anymore?

The door creaked open and a bright red and orange femme with wings on her back walked in with a thermos. Upon seeing Bludgeon, the hauntingly beautiful femme's red lips smiled in a predatory way that somehow made Bludgeon uneasy. "Oh. You're awake. That's good. I was beginning to worry that you were too damaged to get out of stasis lock."

"Who are you?" Bludgeon asked, straight to the point. "Where am I?"

"My name is Ember, and this is my humble abode. The main temple…of my Order." She said. Ember smirked at his cautiousness. "Calm yourself. You are among friends. You're luck Ba found you through her clerics or you would've bled out in that cave."

"So you did save me," Bludgeon slowly got to his feet. "How did you-"

"We have an exceptional doctor who can perform true miracles. Thanks to our gods."

Bludgeon narrowed his eyes. "Your gods?"

"Yes. The gods of stone, the primordials who control the strands of life that bind all life giving planets and their inhabitants together-Quintessence." Ember said. "You have been born with a unique affinity for quintessence and it has allowed you to feel the past, present and future. It has allowed you to hear their voices."

Bludgeon froze, staring at her in shock. "What did you say?"

"The voices, those macabre visions you have, are not uncommon. All those who are chosen by the gods are cursed with this. It's their way of communicating with their subjects over vast distances. It's an arduous process that worsens the more distance is between us and them. I myself had had my fair share of these visions and they've been…hectic to say the least. How do you think we found you?"

Bludgeon was stunned. This was unbelievable! More people who have heard the Voices! So he wasn't going insane. Ember placed a calming hand on his shoulder and handed him the thermos of energon, leading him out of the room.

"Come," She said. "There is something you must see."

XXXXXX

"Those female…creatures," Bludgeon asked. "They were one of these gods?"

"Yes, they're a form of lower beings who take their orders from the chief goddess. You were unfortunate enough to encounter rogues that broke off from the rest of the clan. You did well to survive as long as you did." Ember praised.

They walked down a long corridor within the temple. The walls were smoothly polished, the floor was covered in a massive red carpet that dampened their footsteps, and the air smelled of a sweet smelling smoke. This place was a true place of worship.

"Where are you taking me?" Bludgeon asked.

"To the atrium. You've suffered for so long under those visions, not understanding their meaning, having to endure that torment without guidance. You deserve to know who sent them."

"You'll forgive me if I'm not one for surprises." He said, doing well to mask his eagerness.

They walked up to a pair of giant doors with faces on them. Ember pushed them open and escorted them inside.

The inner sanctum, as Ember called it, was like a palace itself. The walls were lined with gold, decorated with lavish murals lined with gemstones, with a giant throne in the heart of the chamber. Bludgeon was instantly entranced by the heavenly appearance of this chamber, but the figure on the throne earned his attention more.

She was humanoid, with smooth, flawless skin made of gold ore, clad in a white robe that hugged her ample form. Black onyx composed her hair, engulfing all but her forehead, which was bare and had a vertical third eye in addition to her other two. Black lips upturned into a motherly smile as she gazed upon Bludgeon and Ember, parted and releasing deep, slow audible breaths that was followed by a brief tremor.

'Her breathes shake the entire chamber.' Bludgeon realized with awe.

" **Welcome, Bludgeon,"** The dolem Queen greeted. Her voice was like a strong breeze and Bludgeon instinctively took a step back. Shivers were sent rippling through his endoskeleton. " **I have been waiting a long, long time for you."**

Ember smiled-not her usual arrogant smile, but a true one-and said, "She is the Speaker you hear, Bludgeon. She is our matron, Mem Aleph."

Bludgeon fell to his knees in reverence of Mem Aleph's power as it washed over his body, soothing his tortured Spark. In light of this world changing revelation, he would only whisper one word to sum up his experience.

"Magnificent."


	14. Cinders

Chapter 13-Cinders

 **The Benzuli Expanse-five million years ago**

 _The Benzuli Expanse was an area of space known for its abundance of cosmic anomalies. Rogue black holes, dead planets and stare that came from the far reaches of the galaxy, but never left that specific area of space, white dwarfs flickering out of existence right next to each other, the list went on. It was like nature broke down past its stellar borders, and its erratic behavior was making many spacefaring races nervous._

 _The Galactic Council, one of the largest coalition of planets in the known galaxy, had sent a Z'Organian relay ship into Benzuli to monitor the latest anomaly that appeared-a quasar pulse that emerged from a monster black hole. Inside the massive, bat-like ship, the tiny (to cybertronians) squid-like Z'orgians who hovered around in suits propelled by repulsor jets were making note of the anomaly's increasing size in the Expanse, and the their continued studies of it were not looking good._

" _Report." Said the captain._

" _At its current rate of expansion, the anomaly will consume this system within six point five I-vels." The ship's astronomer reported._

" _Probability projection for survival of inhabitants of Helo-Q…0.00." Said another scientist._

" _I see." The captain's gelatinous face showed no emotion thought he sounded disappointed. "Has there been anything from the probes?"_

" _Negative. All ceased to function within 0.13 teks of even horizon penetration. We-"_

 _A sharp beep cut into their talk and one of the pilots checked the readings. "A contact. Something is emerging from the anomaly."_

" _Magnify."_

 _The captain was surprised by this news. "But…nothing can exist in there. That much at least we know. Quantify!"_

" _We cannot!"_

 _The ship shook as multiple tendrils of flames hit the outer hull and propulsion thrusters. As the crew went on red alert, pondering how flames could even exist in the vacuum of space, a giant fireball, like miniature star, arose from the direction of the black hole, and at its heart…was a cybertronian._

 _She was a like a phoenix of terran lore, red and orange with gold highlights along her body. Her eyes glowed like suns and she trailed a tail of flames as she flew through space like a comet. With a wave of her arms, a rain of fireballs tore holes into the ship._

" _We are attacked. Species unknown. Intent…unknown."_

" _Structural integrity at seventy-two percent."_

" _Activate the barrage armaments." The captain ordered. "As they're designed to pulverize whole comets, they should make short work of a single hostile."_

 _The frontal particle cannons pointed at the femme as she flew within range and fired at her at ocne. The femme was engulfed in a brilliant light, her flames doing little to protect her. They held a continuous beam on her for just under a minute before stopping. The Z'orgians were surprised to see that the cybertronian was still intact, though she wasn't moving._

" _No life signs. Target has been rendered inert."_

" _Use the tractor beam. Bring it aboard. By studying this entity, we may learn something about the anomaly itself."_

 _The Z'orgians brought the unknown cybertronian on board via the tractor beam. Placing her on a medical slab, they transported her to the lab to begin study._

" _Commencing diagnostic mapping…" The head scientist said. As he prepared the X-ray scanner, the femme's hand lashed out and took hold of the machine, crushing it in her grip._

 _To their surprise, the femme slowly rose to her feet, her burns and damages healing rapidly at an abnormal rate. Her orange eyes glowed and heat waves rolled off her form._

" _The Expansion is upon us." She growled. "No one can stop it. No you, not I. however…" She grabbed the two Z'orgians. "Your presence here is causing…unrest. And therefore, will not be tolerated."_

 _She smashed the unfortunate souls together, killing them instantly. She didn't even wait for the blood to evaporate off her hands before blasting her way out of the lab and massacring anyone that got in her way as she marched toward the bridge. Anyone caught in her sights were incinerated by her flames, and she unleashed hell on the ship itself._

 _Like a star going nova, the femme exploded in a massive burst of white hot flames, and the explosion blew the ship apart. Everyone on board was killed before the searing pain of their flesh boiling and melting could register. The femme flew out of the dying flames in a different form-a vermillion bird. As she flew away from the gruesome sight, the femme's mind, once a haze of pain and weariness, began to clear up and her eyes dimmed. Blinking, she glanced around, no longer cold and ruthless, but confused and terribly frightened._

" _N-Nova? Galvatron?" Ember gasped. "Where am I?"_

XXXXXX

Throughout the Great War, Cybertron's ravaged surface was declared off limits by both sides- a testament to their blindness and negligence in defense of their planet. But following the Thunderwing debacle, Elita-1 posted an Autobot station in Thunderhead Pass to guard the inert form of Thunderwing to avoid a repeat of the situation that resurrected the beast in the first place. Fortunately, no one tried to attack the base, which was protected by three different wavelengths of shielding from the particle storms, solar flares and ion dispersions.

A month had passed since that chaotic battle, and no activity was good news. But not everyone was happy about this lull in the fighting.

"Face it, Leadfoot, this is a nowhere posting for nobodies!" Sideswipe growled, marching across the base to the comm-station. "And I for one am getting myself reassigned!"

"Look, Sideswipe, it's not that I disagree with you, exactly. It's just…I'm on post." Leadfoot explained, trying to keep pace with Sideswipe's angry strides. "And Hound's orders were clear-no one is to make any unauthorized transmissions. Especially you!"

"So arrest me, throw me in the brig." Sideswipe pushed Leadfoot aside. "But do it after I send the pulsewave!"

Sideswipe made his way to the terminal and typed in the commands, sending a quick transmission pulsewave across space to the place where he felt he was most needed.

Ratchet's face appeared on the screen. "Sideswipe?"

"Ratchet, I need to talk to Prime. Urgently." Sideswipe demanded.

"I'd be happy to oblige, but he's busy trying to keep a massive cache of ore-13 from Megatron's hands." Ratchet said. "He's been off the grid with Jazz and Tomahawk and I don't know when he'll be back."

"Just," Sideswipe took a deep breath to calm himself. "Ask him if he's considered my relocation request, will you? I should be there on Terra, helping find Sunstreaker, not cooling my traction grids here, babysitting stasis-locked Decepticons!"

"Sideswipe," Hound appeared in the doorway, not looking very happy with Sideswipe at the moment. "Sign off. Now."

"Right, yeah. Sideswipe out." The red mech cut the feed.

At the Ark on Terra, Ratchet sighed and rubbed his nasal ridge. So many headaches at once. He was too old for this.

"Sideswipe, eh?" Debbie said as she and Gina appeared in the doorway. "Sounds like our kind of guy."

"Yeah, cause right now, no one's doing much to find Sunstreaker or Darren." Gina frowned. "It's like…you've suddenly given up on him!"

"Debbie, Gina, no one's giving up. It's just, well, we've run into a bit of a dead end." Ratchet said wearily. "Custom wheels yielded next to nothing and cost us dearly. We just need time to reassess."

Debbie sneered and marched out of the door, while Annie just shook her head. "Darren doesn't have time. It may already be too late. Face it, you've failed him." She said, walking away. "We've failed him."

XXXXXX

Back on Cybertron, Hound was giving Sideswipe the grilling of a lifetime. "So…what part of "communications embargo" didn't you understand?" Hound asked.

"Hound, I'm sorry…but you're in charge of a big, fat nothing." Sideswipe growled, glaring right into Hound's face. "Sure, this was the hot spot a while ago, what with the whole Thunderwing brouhaha, but since Flashpoint's forensic team finished up, the focus has moved elsewhere."

Hound was stone faced as he took Sideswipe's ranting. Warpath gave a little chuckle at the red mech's brass bearings. This was too good.

"Much as I don't wish to undermine your authority, I will continue to do everything in my power to get myself back into the thick of it." Sideswipe continued. "I'm in the mood to bust heads and right now, I know I can't think of anywhere better to do it than Terra!"

"You done?" Hound shoved a finger into Sideswipe's chest. "Consider this a formal reprimand. You'll relieve Leadfoot and remain on sentry duty until I see fit to rotate the roster. Understood?"

"Fine, whatever, I could give two slags." Sideswipe smacked Hound's away and pushed past him. "But it changes nothing!"

XXXXXX

Outside the immediate perimeter of the base, Ember stood hidden under an iron archway, watching the blue domed zone like a hawk. As she watched Leadfoot patrol the perimeter, her mind drifted back to a time in the distant past. Before war, before chaos, before factions.

She remembered the Golden Age-that glorious time when Cybertron had spread to the stars, an era of expansion. Thousands of suitable worlds cyberformed with Seeds and altered by a flame from the Well of Allsparks to produce life and support cybertronian colonies. It was a time of happiness, unity and pride in the cybertronian ideal.

And at the top of this Golden Age was Nova Prime, her consort. Cybertron's first chosen Prime to inherit the Matrix after Prima, he who united the planet against the Quintesson invaders and ushered in a new beginning for their liberated race. Ember remembered how Nova would gaze upon his empire with pride and joy. Many years spent fighting the Quintessons had paid off. And now they were mighty once more.

" _Do you see this, Ember?"_ Nova said to her one night. He had her in his arms, gesturing to their shared empire. " _This is what our race could achieve, in lesser time than those other races. We are happy and prosperous, and…I want to spread this wealth to the whole universe. Show all of creation what a utopia looks like."_

That dream had been the basis of their Proudstar expedition. Ember was part of the crew, along with Nova and many of his subordinates-including Galvatron, Jhiaxus and Straxus. She remembered the crowds of bots from every nook and cranny of Cybertron huddled up at the Hydrax Spaceport o see their Prime off, little knowing that the supposed plans of exploration and opening new trade routes had been pushed to the backseat long ago in lieu of a new goal. The Proudstar would spearhead a new age-an age of Expansion.

" _The only perfect universe is a universe populated by only a cybertronians_." Nova Prime said. " _We have achieved peace and prosperity for our kind, while those barbaric organic creatures continue to war and dirty out beloved galaxy with their blood and tears. Well no more! The universe shall know our peace…and bow to us!"_

It was, he described, "like a door opening". A door to somewhere else. And within…absolute power. There was no set destination in mind, as Nova was going by visions he believed were coming from the Matrix. Leaving it under the care of Delta Magnus (she never understood why he left the symbol of his power behind) Nova had the Proudstar fly away from known Cybertronian territory into the unknown-guided by some other force. A bottomless well, a dark mirror of the Matrix itself-the means to remake the entire universe.

Their quest lad led them to the Benzuli Expanse, a known region for stellar anomalies. A large black spiral of dark matter-like a dark version of the milky way galaxy, sat in place, rotating like a black hole, but vastly different in nature. All efforts to probe the yawning nothingness had proved futile. Most of the crew were reluctant to go further, but Nova and Galvatron were insistent in exploring that dark abyss.

Ember couldn't remember what happened next. The Proudstar was dragged in after having moved too close, and then all went dark. When she awoke from her dreamless sleep, she was alone in space, covered in cosmic fire, alone and afraid and filled with a burning hunger she couldn't not describe.

Then she found the dolems…and realized that Nova had indeed found the power he sought to reshape the universe. And with the help of these gods, she will not only bring Nova back from the void, but also realize his dream of making a true cybertronian empire, and make the universe one free of death, with Cybertron at its core. But first, she had to get rid of the heathens who destroyed her beloved world. And clear the way for the Expansion!

XXXXXX

Leadfoot jumped when he heard a loud crack. "Who-?"

Leadfoot's question ended in a choke as a hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed. His final sight was Ember's smirk as she heated her hand and melted through his neck cables, burning clean through his throat. He struggled for a moment in agony before she broke his neck with a quick turn of the wrist and dropped him like a piece of scrap.

"Too easy." She muttered.

"Leadfoot? Leadfoot! What did you do to him?"

Ember turned around to see Sideswipe leaping at her with his electrically charged fist. He slammed his knuckles into the middle of her face and knocked her back. Sideswipe ran over to Leadfoot and knelt by his corpse.

"No." Sideswipe scowled and took out his blaster. "You are going to pay with your miserable life!"

He fired his gun, but the laser bolts only did superficial damage to her. She smirked and waved a hand in his direction, conjuring a geyser of flames that exploded in his face. Sideswipe jumped back but caught another fireball hit his chest and blasted him back. She rushed towards him and grabbed his arm, throwing him over her shoulder into the ground and kicking him in the face.

"You're a thousand stellar cycles too late to even think about fighting me, you fool." Ember said, stalking towards him with flame covered hands. Then she noticed the other four Autobots coming onto the scene.

"Who the frag is that?" Skram said.

"No idea, but we got two down. I say we shoot first and ask questions later." Road Rocket said before switching to his high speed racer alt mode.

Ember scowled and drew her bow, shooting two arrows. They blew up the ground they touched, causing rusted metal shavings and flames to shoot up into their faces. Warpath transformed into his tank mode and fired a shell into her chest.

"Road Rocket, containment!" Hound yelled.

Road Rocket spun circles around Ember, spewing a scentless gas behind him, and then igniting it to create a burning hot ring of flames to keep her in place.

"How'd you like that, Decepticon…if that's what you are!" He said.

"Yeah, right," Skram said as he helped Sideswipe up. "No insignia. What's going on?"

"That's what I intend to find out." Hound growled. "Look out!"

Ember hissed and stomped her foot. Flames exploded from her body and outwards in a powerful nova blast, dispersing Road Rocket's mixed chemical flames and sent the Autobot himself flying. She smirked again and marched towards them in a confident stride.

"Ugh, that stung." Sideswipe groaned, clutching the smoking scorch mark on his chest. He glared at Ember and raised his blaster, pointing it at her head and raising the power level to lethal levels.

"Wait, don't!" Hound yelled.

Sideswipe ignored him and pulled the trigger, firing a laser bolt that tore into Ember's head from the side. She staggered before falling to her knees, smoke blowing from her eyes and mouth. Hound gaped at the corpse before glaring at Sideswipe.

"Damn it, Sideswipe, what's a corpse going to tell us?" Hound growled.

Sideswipe roughly pushed him back. "Get out of my face. If anyone had it coming, she did!"

Skram looked at the body and gave a startled yelp. "Hound! She's getting up!"

"What?"

The Autobots looked at Ember in horror as she slowly got to her feet, the smoking hole in her head rapidly healing over. Ember's eyes glowed bright orange as she summoned power into her hands and fired two highly concentrated streams of flames at the Autobots. Skram and Road Rocket were blasted away. Warpath tried to shoot her, but she flew at him on flame jets fired from her feet, grabbing his tank mode's cannon barrel and slamming him repeatedly into the ground. Turning to Hound and Sideswipe, she punched the ground and sent a trail of explosions at the pair. They tried to get away, but they were caught up in the blast wave and taken out as well.

Ember stood among the fallen Autobots-they were seriously damaged, but not dead. Mem Aleph had told her to leave no survivors, but a spiteful part of Ember wanted the Autobots to live just long enough to feel her vengeance for all the chaos they and the Decepticons had wrought. Spitting at them, she stepped over their bodies and walked towards the main containment facility for what she came for.

XXXXXX

A few hours later, Hound, Sideswipe and the others awoke from their unintended sleep, sporting severe burns that stung whenever they moved, but they were all alive. However, their pride was another story.

"Ow," Warpath grunted, clutching the twisted cannon barrel that formed part of his chest. "Never had a wham blam kapow done to me like that before. That hurt."

"I shot her." Sideswipe muttered in disbelief. "I dealt her a kill shot and she just walked it off."

"H-Hound, what the hell was that?" Road Rocket asked.

"No idea, but we need to salvage this situation." Hound marched towards the command center. "I'm going to call orbital command and-"

"Hound!" Skram ran out of the containment hold. "Hound, it's gone!"

Dread filled Hound's Spark. Did he mean… "What's gone? What?!"

"Thunderwing! He's gone!"

XXXXXX

Ember knelt before the dolem queen, Mem Aleph, who sat on her throne of gold, flanked by two idols of diamonds. The Queen stared down at Ember, her charge, with three eyes of black onyx.

" **Ember** ," Mem Aleph inhaled and exhaled, causing the cave to shake. " **Do you have it?"**

"Yes, my queen." Ember waved to the giant, still form of Thunderwing. "We have our prize."

Mem Aleph smiled. " **Then we shall continue onto Phase-2. Let's see how Kopesh is doing on Gorlam Prime."**


	15. Seeds

Chapter 14-Seeds

Before the war, before everything went to hell, Elita-1 had been a data clerk. Forged in a hot spot within Iaconian territory during Nova Prime's 450TH cycle as Prime, her designated alt mode she learned to change into upon maturation landed her a spot in the data caste, where she worked as a data clerk sorting through and organizing data into files for stoarage. It was a task that she learned to love under Alpha Trion's guidance. She loved learning all these new things about her world, about the far off places she'd never been to. However, being a data clerk had also taught her many things, like how to compartmentalize. What was important? What wasn't? Where does this go? Is this trash? Is this old or recent? Questions that become second nature to a data clerk after learning the ins and outs of the job.

Even as a high ranking Autobot officer, Elita-1 would reminisce about spending her days in the Hall of Records, reading old reports from the Golden Age-about Nova Prime and the crew of the Proudstar. That was what led her to her current investigation.

"Ember; birthplace: unknown. Forge date: unknown. Function: unknown." Elita-1 rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Almost nothing is known about her aside from her name, alt mode and outlier status. Did she erase the information herself?"

It certainly wouldn't be hard for a femme like Ember, but something told Elita-1 that something else was going on. And it had something to do with recent events.

Elita-1 was very familiar with Ember. She was a femme who escalated tensions behind the scenes during the Uprising, manipulating events to force the Senate into a corner, having a possible connection to the Great Fire that ravaged Tarn, conspiring with a local warlord to oust Megatron, and even having a hand in mutating Thunderwing into the monster that he was now. The list goes on and on, all centered around the destabilization of cybertronian society and the elimination of key figures.

Elita-1 had the displeasure of fighting Ember herself during the Siege of Iacon, it was a brief but ferocious battle that ended with her losing an arm and almost getting herself killed had it not been for Omega Supreme's intervention. Come to think of it, it was strange that he would personally come to her aid during a massive battle where he was needed elsewhere. Why had he come to fight Ember himself?

Now that she thought of it, Elita-1 swore she had seen Ember's face before, though it took a good while before she finally remembered why she looked so familiar. As it turned out, Ember's name was on the Proudstar's manifest!

XXXXXX

"Hound and his crew have made a full recovery from their little scuffle with that witch, but we still have no clue as to Thunderwing's whereabouts." Perceptor said. "Our nano-tag hasn't turned up on our systems and-"

"I doubt we'll find Thunderwing until Ember lets him loose. If that's her plan at all, Perceptor." Elita-1 sighed, studying security clips of Ember's battles on Cybertron.

"Do you think she'll actually try to revive him as Bludgeon did?"

"Possibly, but Ember is as enigmatic as she is insane." Elita-1 said. "She's not the type to do something unless she was absolutely sure."

"I see," Perceptor hummed. "Well, we've sent out recon teams to scout the surrounding star systems and-"

"Perceptor, does Ember look familiar to you?" Elita-1 suddenly asked. Perceptor blinked.

"I'm…sorry?"

"I'm sorry for interrupting you, it's just…she seems rather familiar to me in a sense, and I was wondering if…"

"If it was just a case of paranoia and no actual recognition?" Perceptor finished. "Elita-1, if you were any other bot, I'd have gone with paranoia-trying to make connections that aren't there. But you were a data clerk who has searched through countless data files that go back as far as the Age of Wrath. Perhaps you saw her face once, but had forgotten it over time."

"Yes," Elita-1 muttered, her eyes brightening at the possible solution. "You may be right about that, Perceptor. Thank you."

"I'm always happy to help, ma'am." he said.

"And could you please call someone in for me? I think I might be onto something."

"Who do you have in mind?"

XXXXXX

"Nova Prime?" Kup blinked. Elita-1 nodded.

"Yes, I want you to think back to that time. As a veteran of the Revolutionary War, you're probably one of the only Autobots in the army that knows him personally." She said. "Just tell me what you can recall about him, that's all."

Kup gave her a strange look, but decided to humor her. "Okay, fine. Buy my memory's a bit fuzzy so don't start cryin' if I screw somethin' up." He lit up a cy-gar and took a couple of puffs from it. "I've never met the big mech himself for more than a few minutes at a time, kinda busy training soldiers and all that. Either that or I was in local pubs getting' hammered and what not, but it wasn't hard to miss him. Nova's face was everywhere, Cybertron's first true Prime who united the planet to fight for its freedom."

Kup went on to describe that Nova often took the company of some rather shady characters-Galvatron of the Darklands, Jhiaxus, his chief advisor, Lord Straxus of the Polyhex Imperium, now the modern day Torus States, and Dai Atlas of the Circle of Light. They all came from vastly different backgrounds and were very different in terms of how they wanted to achieve things, but they were a formidable force when working together.

"Granted, aside from Nova, they weren't exactly friendly mechs. Galvatron was a violent lunatic who tried to conquer everything from entire states to a spot by the bar, Jhiaxus was creepy and generally unlikable and Straxus was just a cog sucker that no one liked and everyone wanted to kill in his sleep." Kup continued. "As for Nova, he was a mech who strongly believed in the cybertronian dream, spreading our reach far and wide to show the entire galaxy just who were are. Great plan, if he didn't vanish and we were hit with the Rust Plague, but life's a glitch like that."

"And was there another one in Nova's group? A femme?" She asked. "There are a few records I remember seeing that said Nova had a consort-a possible conjux endura."

Kup shrugged and puffed a cloud of smoke. "I…think I saw something like that. Yeah…yeah I remember Nova having some femme with him-a priestess I think. Red and orange, liked to stay out of the public eye. Don't ask me her name, but she looked like a walking fireball whenever she did poop up alongside him. Huh, how did I forget someone like that?"

Elita-1 smiled. Memory storage for cybertronians were a lot like organics in that regard, but on a different scale. Unlike an organic brain, a cybertronian brain module can only store a certain amount of information at a time, including memories. When filled to capacity, the brain module would take only the most important information and file it away at the back of the mind while completely deleting unimportant information. It was why you don't have bots claiming that they've met Prima or have been around since the Primal Age. It was why bots who had fought the Quintessons barely remember taking arms against them after living a long life of leisure and complacency.

"Thank you, Kup. You've helped me a lot today." She smiled.

"Sure thing," Kup narrowed his eyes at her. "You're not getting yourself involved in anything crazy, are ya?"

"Please, Kup, I'm always involved in something crazy." She snorted. "The difference is that it's going to be on my terms this time."

XXXXXX

XXXXXX

"You're leaving."

"Yes."

"By yourself?"

"Yes."

"But…Elita, we just had an Autobot team attacked barely a week ago!" Chromia exclaimed.

"I know, Chromia, but trust me on this. We need answers now more than ever." Elita-1 said.

The two Autobot Valkyries stood in front of the shuttle Elita-1 was using, the Ark-32 (it was just a generic model Elita-1 was piloting because she didn't want to use the Valkyries' personal vessel, the Lilac Avenger) discussing the team leader's brash course of action. It came as a surprise to Elita-1's closest associates when she announced her sudden departure all by herself. Without any backup or support. It didn't sit well with the other Autobots, especially her best friend and first lieutenant.

"Why are you doing this? You know how dangerous it is for the Autobot commander to be warping around the galaxy alone during wartime." Chromia said. "You'll need a strike team, or-"

"I don't need a unit for this, because I'm not planning to fight. This is a personal matter with someone who believes he's better off alone, and out of respect for him, I must come alone as well." She explained.

"Alone?" Chromia's eyes widened. "Hold up, are you going to meet…him?"

"I might have come across something that may provide us some explanation as to the recent happenings following Thunderwing's theft, and he might know what we're dealing with. I leave command of the Valkyries over to you until I get back."

Chromia sighed and nodded. "Just…be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Elita-1 smiled.

She boarded the Ark-32 and, with help from Teletran-1, piloted the ship out of the docking bay and into open space. As she flew to the boundaries of Autobot controlled space, Elita-1 inputted the coordinates into the ship's computer and initiated the fold drive. Her vision swam as space distorted around her, and in a flash…she was gone.

XXXXXX

Folding was the term used by cybertronians when performing a faster than light warp across space, an innovation adopted (stolen) from Quintesson scientists. As one cannot travel faster than light, folding involves moving the vessel as close as possible to lightspeed before initiating a fold-an event where the ship in real space is switched with fold space (the dimension the ship travels through) and then doing the reverse at the destination point. There were many variables involved, such as mass-the larger the vessel, the more energy needed for warping-and accuracy. Not to mention the dangers if something happens to the fold drives. Breaking apart mid-jump was the least of your worries.

Elita-1 let the disorientating effects of folding in and out of realspace wash over her, acclimating to the changes in time. It only lasted a few seconds, though one would think it long, then the Ark-32 reemerged in realspace at the programmed coordinates. She waited for the fold drive to power down before taking manual control again and piloting it towards the Muta-Gaath nebula, a distant stellar collection of volatile gases far from civilized space.

Only a handful of Autobots knew of this location, and only Optimus Prime himself dared to visit it alone. Elita-1 was told herself when she became a member of Autobot high command. It wasn't the nebula itself that was important, but what was inside it-an artificial asteroid carefully screened from prying eyes.

Elita-1 set the ship down outside the giant crystalline structure at the center of the asteroid. Though the sole resident of this place professed to be left alone following The Fall, Elita-1 needed answers to the questions that kept coming up.

She needed to see…Omega Supreme!

XXXXXX

Outside the nebula, another ship hovered outside its boundaries. The occupants of the ship ignored the Autobot shuttle vanishing into the multicolored cloud of stardust, they were more concerned with the target that lied inside the nebula itself.

"Is he here?" Bristleback asked. "Have we found Him at last?"

"Only one way to find out." Slog growled.

"Which is…?"

"We smash our way in," Slog slammed his large fists together. "And kill whoever and whatever is inside!"

XXXXXX

Omega Supreme was a legend, one of the few remaining figures from Nova Prime's era. It was said that the Omega Guardians used by the senate in later years were based off his design-the so-called guardian of Crystal City referred to in legends.

He was an imposing figure; standing at 200 feet tall, red and golden orange, standing around the same size as the average gestalt. Omega Supreme sat on a throne that doubled as a generator that kept him fully charged at all times. His orange face was uncovered by his golden face mask, and his blue eyes gazed down at Elita-1 like a king looking upon his subjects. Elita-1 tried to remain strong. Even though he wasn't trying, Omega Supreme displayed a regality that was hard to ignore.

"Speak." Omega Supreme said in a deep, booming voice that rattled the chamber (and Elita-1).

"I…barely know where to begin." Elita-1 said. "I suppose I need to know the truth about the Proudstar…and Nova Prime!"

Omega Supreme's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because…I've met someone who's deeply connected to him; someone who is supposed to be dead. Something has been set in motion, and I believe Nova and the Proudstar are at the heart of it all." She said and looked up at him. "You knew him, didn't you? Nova Prime. Was he really the benevolent savior history portrays him as?"

Omega Supreme took his time to answer, his massive processor moving slower than the average bot. "He and I…disagreed."

Elita-1 blinked. "What?"

"On the evolutionary pace of the cybertronian race, where I championed restraint and isolation, a slow inner growth through intellectual contemplation, Nova wanted expansion, to push out to the distant stars and even influence the course of events." Omega's eyes turned wistful as he remembered the Prime of ages past. "Nova was forever seeking, forever testing the limits of science and faith. He had a certain moral…ambiguity when it came to the cybertronian ideal. He believed that we were above other forms of life, and that the universe should be molded in our image."

"Primus above," Elita-1 whispered. "The Proudstar wasn't about trade and exploration at all, was it? It was to spearhead this expansion."

"I suspect as much, yes. As to whether he might still be alive…it is possible." Omega Supreme said. "The ultimate fate of the Proudstar and its crew was never determined."

"Omega…has Nova ever been in contact with a red femme with an avian beast mode?" Elita-1 asked. "A femme who looked like she was made from fire itself?"

"How could I forget? Nova had a conjux endura, a priestess from a car corner of cybertronian who worshipped unknown gods." Omega Supreme's expression darkened. "Her name was Ember, and though she rarely took action alongside Nova, she whispered into his ear and her moods were widely erratic. I suspect Ember was unhinged, and this religion of hers, a sect based off of abstract visions and voices, drove her actions. There are times when I wondered if most of Nova's actions and decisions were influenced by her."

Elita-1 had all the confirmation she needed-Ember was far older than she looked and her reach was longer than she thought. Ember was probably the only survivor of the Proudstar mission and now she was back to finish what Nova started. "Omega, this may sound unbelievable, but-"

The chamber began to shake violently, causing the two Autobots to look around in confusion. Elita-1 turned to the giant doors and heard heavy footsteps outside. A loud roar shook the cavern and the titanium steel doors were kicked inwards, nearly crushing Elita-1. The form that stomped through was a being she wasn't expecting to see.

"A gestalt?!" She exclaimed.

It was indeed a gestalt-the combined form of a combiner team who merge into a single entity. Elita-1 had seen Devastator and Superion in combat, but this gestalt was not one she encountered before, and it looked…strange. This gestalt didn't display the coherent unity most combiner teams had-its components were mix-matched and its face was like that of a demonic skull.

"Found you at last!" The gestalt snarled. "Now you pay!"

"What does it want?" Elita-1 asked.

"Not it," Omega Supreme stood up from his chair, his face mask sliding over his face. "They. And they want me."

The gestalt roared and Elita-1 had to jump aside to avoid being trampled by the combiner as it slammed into Omega Supreme. The massive Autobot raised his particle cannon, but the gestalt smacked his arm aside and pushed him into the wall. Both giants crashed through the wall into the other chamber where Elita-1 had parked the ship. She grabbed her plasma rifle and ran to help Omega Supreme. She had no idea what she could do, but she wasn't going to just stand around.

Omega Supreme grappled with the gestalt, tearing up the ground in the scuffle. Elita-1, who had personally seen him action, was surprised to see him struggling against this monster. The gestalt howled and punched Omega in the face, ripping off his cannon arm before actually picking up the massive Autobot and throwing him aside.

"Monstructor," The gestalt hissed, grabbing Elita-1's ship and actually lifting it over his head before smashing it onto Omega Supreme. "Crush!"

'That thing is going to kill him if I don't do something!' Elita-1 thought and aimed her rifle at Monstructor. "Leave him alone!"

She fired a volley of plasma bolts into Monstructor's back, but to her surprise, the blasts were diffused by some energy-dampening field along the length of its metal skin. Monstructor spared her a glance before lifting the ship in its grasp and slamming it onto Omega Supreme's body.

Elita-1 cursed and tried something else. She looked up at one of the giant lifting claws and snapped the cables with her powers. The claw fell towards Monstructor, but he smacked it aside, sending it crashing into the entry hatch. Elita-1 ran at Monstructor, who was tearing through the wreckage of her ship to get to Omega Supreme. Knowing that fighting a gestalt alone with no heavy weaponry was suicide, she focused on the entry hatch and fired her rifle at the doors.

There was a brief explosion followed by the strong pull of the vacuum outside that began sucking everyone outside into the void. Monstructor, Omega Supreme and Elita-1 were all pulled out of the base, flung in different directions as the entered zero-G. With Monstructor spinning aimlessly in space, Omega Supreme honed in on Elita-1 signal and flew in her direction.

"Well this is a fine mess." Elita-1 said as she drifted in space. She heard the loud sound of rockets and saw Omega Supreme flying toward her, using the rocket booster in his one arm to propel himself. "Hey! Is this ride taken?" She quipped dryly.

Omega Supreme allowed her to grab onto him and he flew as far from the asteroid and Monstructor as he could. He flew towards a passing comet and they both reached the far flung piece of space debris. Elita-1 used her powers to slow her descent on the slow moving object, but Omega Supreme crashed behind her, nearly throwing her off. His hard impact almost buried him completely in the hard snow and ice, and he was stuck fast thanks to his weight being used against him.

"Omega!" She ran over to him.

"I...function. Restorative sub-systems are stabilizing my condition." He assured her. He hardly sounded in pain despite the beating the gestalt gave him. "We must prepare. There isn't much time."

Elita-1 shook her head. "First you give me answers."

Omega Supreme glared down at her. "Later."

"NOW." She said firmly.

They stared at each other unblinkingly before Omega Supreme finally caved in. "Very well. They…are an experiment, six individuals who became one courtesy of Jhiaxus, Nova's chief theoretical scientist. They are Bristleback, Icepick, Wildfly, Scowl, Birdbrain and Slog. They were the result of Jhiaxus' experiments to introduce combiner technology to our race, Cybertron's first gestalt. Instead, they devolved into monsters!"

Elita-1 knew how touch and go combiner technology was. Shockwave was the first to unlock its power through his extensive research, but only after a lot of trial and error. He discovered that some bots had a specific gene that allowed combiners to reform and combine into a singular being. A genetic preposition activated to allow them to fuse mind and body. The setback for gestalts is the fusion itself, mixed with mass shifting that turned them into oversized goliaths, took a toll on their mental capabilities, and that was just for true combiners. The ramifications of forcing a fusion between non-compatible bots without the gene always ended in death, but apparently that wasn't the case with Monstructor. For him, the mental strain was enough to drive the gestalt into near insanity.

"When Nova Prime and Jhiaxus disappeared…I took it upon myself to consign their deviant creation to a dimensionally placed prison," Omega Supreme continued. "Where it would remain for the rest of its unnatural existence."

"Without even trying to help them? To reverse the process? What gave you the right to imprison them in the first place when they were clearly unwilling subjects?" elita-1 said. "You're no better than them-all of you, playing god!"

Elita-1 saw a green light in distance making its way toward them. She realized that it must've been Monstructor's ship, and the spawn of Unicron himself appeared in the landing bay. He jumped from the ship, howling like a deranged demon as he fell to the comet.

"Elita-1, listen…Monstructor has one weakness. A connective filament directly beneath the mid-torso armature/ striking it with enough force will send it into a spasm."

Monstructor landed on the comet and stomped over to the two Autobots. Elita-1 ran into his path and summoned a tall TK barrier around them, as well as causing the ice under Monstructor to weaken beneath him. Monstructor felt the ground under him creak and groan before caving in, and he tripped onto his knees. Glaring with red eyes at Elita-1, he jumped up and punched the barrier, causing Elita-1 to wince. Monstructor punched the barrier again and it shattered. She fell back and groaned from the splitting headache the psychic backlash caused.

"Wait, Monstructor, just wait!" Elita-1 yelled up at him. "A grievous wrong has been done to you and I will do everything in my power to help. We can-"

Monstructor reached down and snatched Elita-1 off the ground. He held her up to his face and glared at her as he squeezed her hard. A raspy cackle blew through his fanged mouth at her pain. "Help us? You think you can change this? If you really want to help us…then die quickly!"

Elita-1 grunted in pain as she felt her body slowly getting crushed in his grip. Knowing that she only had seconds to act before she was cracked in half, she generated TK energy into her hand and pinpointed the weak point in Monstructor's chest. "At least I tried!"

She punched the filament with a powerful TK enhanced punch that tore into his armor, shattering the seam and sending intense waves of agony surging through his body. Monstructor dropped Elita-1 and stumbled back as he shook and shivered in violent spasms. Eventually it was too much for his components to handle and Monstructor broke apart into the individual Chimeracons, each mech falling into stasis lock upon hitting the ground. Elita-1 stood over them and stared at them in pity.

"One way or another, I'll fix our ancestors mistakes," Elita-1 said. "Starting with you."

XXXXXX

With Omega Supreme's help, Elita-1 was able to call for Autobot reinforcements to come escort the Chimeracons back to Orbital Command for rehabilitation. Elita-1 stood to the side watching as Huffer's unit slowly lifted Omega Supreme out of the ice.

"You criticize me for acting beyond my station, but you don't know how grand Nova's plans were. Him, Ember, Jhiaxus, even Galvatron-they all sought to bring the universe to heel, and to test the limits of our people's fortitude." Omega Supreme said before they parted ways. "They will drag us all into darkness and Ember's zeal is just a taste of it! Beware, Elita-1, of the sings of our forefathers."

Elita-1 thought of Alpha Trion's fate, and the terrible past he held within him for so long. The guilt that still ate away at him for having a chance to make Cybertron a paradise, but instead sent it on a downward spiral. "I know of our ancestors' sins, but ours seem just as evident. Don't you agree?"

On the shuttle ride home, Elita-1 stood on the bridge and watched the stars pass her by. She had read a lot of history in the past, but nothing stung more than having evidence of a famed hero's true colors appear in reality right in front of you. Nova Prime was a patriot and a conqueror, and Ember was this lingering demon from the past that won't go away. She had no idea what Ember was planning, but she knew it was only a matter of time before worlds were set aflame once more because of their problems. It seemed that a lot of worlds burned at the touch of the cybertronians.

Rubbing her forehead, Elita-1 thought back to a little saying that Alpha Trion once told her in regards to solving age old questions: the seeds of the future, lie buried in the past.


	16. The Immortal

Chapter 15-The Immortal

"Scrap this place is creepy." Stockade muttered. He would never admit it openly, but being deployed to planets where psychotic cannibals called home was not a job he imagined himself doing at all in his career. Hell, he wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for that stupid Octane urging high command to secure this sector for their territory. Energon hot spot his aft, that dimwit wanted to hog the glory of creating a new outpost himself.

"Quit your belly-aching and keep your eyes peeled." Crankcase growled, holding onto his combat rifle in a near-breaking grip. "Primus forbid if you actually grow a pair on these missions."

Stockade bristled and spun around to glare at Crankcase. "You wanna start something you little slagheap?"

"Don't act macho now just because I called you out on being a total wuss!" Crankcase pushed Stockade back with a hard shove. "That act ain't gonna work on me like those cadets you get off on bullying. I have a spine!"

"One I'm gonna tear out with my bare hands!" Stockade growled.

The two Cons were nearly butting heads and were trying to push each other back. They were waiting for the other to throw the first punch to start the brawl, but were forced to jump back when three blaster bolts tore into the ground between them. They both glared at the third member of their team.

"What the hell, Fracture?" Stockade yelled.

Fracture, a short, but agile beige and white femme was far from intimidated by Stockade's aggressive grandstanding. She stomped up to him and punched him in the chest. "In case you morons forgot why we're here, we are on an important mission that needs to be completed on the double. So shut up and focus before I rip out your t-cog's and sell 'em to Tarn!"

"You wouldn't dare." Crankcase said.

"You wanna try me?" Fracture charged up her laser crossbow, ready to shoot if either of them made a move against her. Shooting your own comrades was not something that was reinforced in the Decepticons (yes, even fascists robot conquerors have their own standards), but when your subordinates were being unruly, a little harsh discipline was always required to bring order. And Fracture could always say they ran into hostiles- that excuse worked almost every time.

Fortunately, Stockade and Crankcase knew better than to attack her and backed off, stomping in different directions of the canyon they were exploring. Fracture sighed and looked around, ignoring that unsettling feeling she felt since they landed on this planet.

Nox was a world located far from its sun. Cold and dark with its sun little more than a speck of light in the distance, the planet was an ice world that had little to no value for either Decepticons or Autobots. At first, the only reason the Cons were interested in it was for the energy provided from its high geothermal activity, which raised some ideas for an energon production plant on Nox. But then strange things would happen to the survey teams that scouted the planet. A cybertronian ship was sighted minutes before the first teams touched down, a ship similar to the space carriers that were used by the Seekers to transport their numbers over vast distances.

This single sighting was enough for the regional commander Octane to have a combat unit touch down on Nox and see if there were any signs of Autobots in the area. No one could get a proper ID on what ship it was or where it came from. Who it belonged to was out of the question and the general theories was that it was either the Autobots snooping around or one of Slipstream's people causing trouble again for no reason. Fracture had no idea what to expect, and thus she was on high alert for any changes.

"Commander," A rusty red drone flew over to her and saluted. "There have been signs of ion displacement in the surrounding atmosphere around here. Source unknown, but quantity of these emissions shows that they were dispersed from a large vessel."

"Huh, so we do have a mole." Fracture said. "Have drone squads two and four comb that region for any more signs and-"

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Stockade's scream ran through the air and set everything into the frenzy. Fracture transformed and drove towards her partner's position with the drones following her. It didn't take long to reach him, but she could see that he was being attacked by something larger than him. Fracture switched forms and opened fire on the assailant, but it didn't seem to care that its back was being riddle with plasma bolts.

"All drone units, converge on my position! Eliminate all hostiles!" Fracture reverted to her car mode and drove at full speed at the attacker. She slammed into it from behind and knocked it off Stockade and quickly checked him over. "Scrap!"

Stockade was deader than a dreadnought. Not only was his torso ripped open with his inner components strewn about the ground and a third of his head was bitten off, with his brain module hanging in his skull only by a few cords and still flickering in its death throes. Fracture heard a hiss and instinctively jumped back when a long, thin blade swung at her head.

Fracture rolled back and fired a few plasma blasts at her attack, but a lithe arm grabbed her rifle and smacked it away. That was when she noticed the bot's configuration and familiar body frame.

"A Seeker?" Fracture exclaimed. The assailant had the same body frame as the Seekers, but their armor looked rough and worn, like they were partially covered in rust. Their face was covered in a thin black battle mask with a red visor to hide their identity, but Fracture could guess from the litheness of the bot's frame that it was probably a femme. "Crankcase, get over to me you fraghead!"

The mysterious Seeker ignited her boosters and flew at Fracture, but was forced back when a rain of missiles from above peppered the ground around her with explosions, saving Fracture from a close quarters battle that would've gone south for her. Alpha-Class Seeker dorones descended on the hostile, shooting relentlessly. Fracture was satisfied to see the Seeker get riddled with bullets and laser bolts, losing arms and pieces of its wings. Fracture waited for the femme to go down before calling off the drones.

"That was excessive." Crankcase said as he ran over to Fracture. "You okay?"

"Where the hell were you? You should've been here by now!"

"Someone rigged the canyon over there with plasma density charges." Crankcase pointed at the thick column of smoke rising about a mile from their position. "I lost my drone squadron and nearly ate it myself. Where's Stockade?"

"Dead. That fragger ripped him open and gored him." Fracture jerked her head at the body.

"Scrap, he certainly bought it. Can't wait to sell his T-cog though."

"Shut up and help me see who this bastard is." Fracture and Crankcase walked over to the downed femme, who hasn't moved an inch since being shot down. But her battle mask was still in place. "I never did trust you Seeker scum."

Crankcase leaned down to yak off the mask, but to his and Fracture's surprise and horror, the Seeker's hand shot up and grabbed his arm in a vice grip. The femme's mask retracted to reveal a scarred face with an elongated jaw full of jagged teeth.

"Too bad those are your last words!" She hissed before biting down on Crankcase's head with her teeth. His screams filled the eternal night of Nox.

XXXXXX

Slipstream was a femme who knew when to control her ambitions, not let them control her. As Starscream's first lieutenant, she not only followed his every command (unfortunately) but she also flowed his every decision, every action he made. Just as Starscream sought to usurp Megatron as the Decepticon leader, Slipstream sought to usurp her Seeker "brother". Over the cycles she had grown tired of Starscream's rashness and incompetency, fed up with his need to stand out born from the inferiority complex born from his sister's abuse. And as the only highest ranking Seeker under him, it was only right that she take the job.

The difference between them was that unlike Starscream, Slipstream knew her limits. She didn't have grandeur dreams of becoming empress of the Decepticons or something stressful. She was fine with just being commander of the Seekers. Unfortunately, that meant she inherited all the headaches that came with the position, such as inter-organizational rivalries.

"Are you sure you saw a Seeker, Fracture?" Slipstream asked dryly. "I mean, we're not the only ones with a jet mode."

"Don't patronize me, Slipstream, I know what I saw!" Fracture growled. "That femme had a Seeker's frame and that same brand on her wing. She was a Seeker!"

"But steel gray and red? We don't have any bots close to that color scheme." Slipstream sighed.

"Or maybe you're just hiding the glitch that killed two of my partners?" Fracture snarled. "You Seekers always stick up for each other, why should this mess be any different?"

Slipstream was getting tired of these baseless accusations. "Maybe if you did a better job leading your team, we wouldn't be screwing around in this god forsaken room!"

Fractured jumped up to tear her head off, but a stern voice from right next to her made her think otherwise.

"Enough of this bickering!" Strika stepped between them and cowed their fury with a deadly gaze. "Throwing around unproven accusations isn't going to solve anything, Fracture."

"But sir, this is the forth incident this week. We've lost two stations and five energon plants to this Seeker!" Fracture slammed her hand onto the table. "This could be the Seeker's prelude to a declaration of war. They're too damn scared to say it to our faces, but they're willing to stab us in the back!"

"Go frag yourself you degenerate forge welder." Slipstream sneered.

"I said enough!" Strika shouted, stopping them cold. "Fracture, go cool your head."

"But-"

Fracture cut herself off at Strika's glared and stiffly saluted her commander before stomping out of the room, slamming the door open and marching down the hall. Once she was gone, Strika turned to Slipstream.

"I hope you realize this incident falls on you, Slipstream. The soldiers want answers and their first instinct is to blame the Seekers." She said. "I know your people want are innocent in this, as far as we know, but with the attacker being identified as a Seeker, the evidence pointing towards you is damning. If you know anything, if you have even the slightest idea on who it is and you're not telling me because of some misguided sense of Seeker loyalty…"

"I'm not hiding anything, sir. I don't know who's doing this, but this bastard is threatening the safety of my Seekers. She's already on my hit list." Slipstream said, staring straight into Strika's eyes. She was telling the truth and was willing to bet her Spark on it. Strika exhaled and nodded.

"Fine then, Slipstream. Since you're so confident that your Seekers aren't behind this, then I'm confident enough to assign you the task of capturing this rogue Seeker." Strika said. "Find this femme and bring her in, but if you can't do that, then at least bring me her corpse."

"Yes sir."

"And Slipstream, remember that if this continues, I will place the Seekers on lockdown and you will face a military tribunal." Strika said and crossed her arms behind her back. "I will not have the Decepticons fall into civil war because of a Seeker. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Strika."

"Good. You are dismissed."

XXXXXX

So how'd the fireworks go off?"

"Piss off, Hellcat."

Slipstream stopped into the longue on the second floor of the Decepticon headquarters on Charr, still in a stint after the tense interrogation session with Strika. It was a large room where off-duty Cons would go to take five, refuel and recharge, and enjoy the stunning view of Charr's infernal landscape outside the confines of the massive military base/city. The Seekers would hang out in their own private corner when not on missions, taking over the seating area and daring anyone to try and move them.

Slipstream found the team in their usual spot, sitting in a circle with their drinks, though they were unusually quiet. They were well aware of what was going on; the heat was on them with more and more of these attacks reporting an unknown Seeker attacking scout teams and combat units, and it dampened their usually boisterous moods. Slipstream stole a Vehicon's drink before plopping down into a chair and taking a long, hard swig of Kremzeek.

"That answer your question, Hellcat?" Thrust chuckled. His smirk disappeared at the dirty glare Slipstream threw at him.

"So what's the verdict?" Sunstorm asked. "How much slag are we in?"

"No, someone not on our roster, but has our appearance." Slipstream said. "We don't have a lot to go on since most of the witnesses were killed on the spot or didn't get a good look. All we know is that the assailant's a femme who's also a raging cannibal."

"This lack of information is infuriating." Ramjet growled.

"Maybe it's Starscream's ghost come to haunt us or something." Hellcat, a short, light orange femme with reverse angle wings, said.

"Shut it, brat." Thrust growled. "We're on the verge of being persecuted as criminals by our own kind, and you're makin' jokes?"

"Someone's gotta ease the tension." She smirked.

"Would all of you shut up? We're on the verge of being blacklisted for treason, so could you morons be serious for once?!" Slipstream hissed. "We need to narrow down the suspects in this case in order to figure out who's behind all this."

"Cool, except we don't have any suspects because we didn't give two slags about this until recently." Dirge said.

"Well we're giving a damn now, Dirge, and that's what matters." She replied and sighed. This was too much stress for one solar cycle. "We don't have anything important to go on other than a sketchy description of the bot and the demonic features she displayed. "For now, we wait doe this spawn of a glitch to act, then snag 'em when they pop up."

"But there are a lot of targets for that femme to hit. We won't be able to narrow down all those targets with our timeframe." Dirge said.

Slipstream frowned. Now she was regretting not pursuing the case further before it got out of hand. There were many places in the Decepticon Empire that could be deemed as a target-energon plants, battlements, prisons, and munitions factories, anything that was crucial to the war effort. There was no rhyme or reason to the mysterious femme's actions. Even targets of little or no strategic value were hit with extreme prejudice. This wasn't the work of a soldier or alien dog of the Galactic Council. Someone wanted to cause as much grief as possible.

"How about we lure the bastard out?" Hellcat suggested. "Place some bait out and wait for her to come to us before striking?"

"Oh? What do you have in mind?" Slipstream asked.

"From what I can see, our attacker is only doing this to make us hurt; this isn't business, it's personal. So how about we use a very valuable target as bait to draw them out. Once the femme pops up to torch the location, we mobilize and strike with a swarm of scraplets."

"What bait?" Thrust asked. Hellcat smirked.

"Anyone hear about that new red energon production facility Obsidian was making?"

XXXXXX

It was a risky plan on their part; using a crucial red energon production plant as bait to lure out the femme and capture her was a mission they couldn't screw up. If they did, they'd lose a whole lot of red energon that was hard enough to produce as it is. Strika didn't like the plan at all, but Obsidian supported the plan. They needed to use something very valuable or else their prey will pass it up. Steps needed to be taken to make sure this pest didn't evolve into an actual problem that gave them too much grief.

The production plant was located on the desert planet Dobash, and a ring of warships were located an equal distance from each other around the planet's equator. These ships were equipped with specialized cloaking technology that hid their positions and a dozen long range satellites were also arranged vertically, invisible as well. This encased the planet in an impenetrable sensory net with no blind spots and no way to escape without encountering severe firepower. Obsidian made sure the facility went through the proper channels to make it seem more important than it needed to be, making it a tantalizing target for their rogue femme.

After a few weeks of preparation in utmost secrecy, Obsidian and Strika were watching the final preparations before the operation officially began. Slipstream's face was on the main monitor giving them a progress report on the other ships.

"The ships are in position and my squadrons are fueled and ready to mobilize the minute you give the order." Slipstream said. "Don't worry, generals, I won't let this femme get away."

"You better not. We're putting a very important asset at risk here for a single criminal and I would like to see some results for our efforts." Strika said.

"Don't forget that this criminal is doing a remarkable job at ripping apart out scouting parties and half-finished installations." Obsidian said calmly. "Strika, let Slipstream handle the operation. Trapping rats like this one is her specialty."

"Thank you, sir." Slipstream said and the channel cut off. Now that she was no longer under the hard gazes of her superiors, Slipstream gave a shaky breath to calm herself and turned to her Seekers. "Okay, it's almost show time. Once we see the target, we move out at once and take her down."

"Seems a bit overkill for one femme." Ramjet said.

"This femme has murdered hundreds of our soldiers, some worth more than twelve of us combined, so how about you actually take a mission seriously, Ramjet?" Slipstream hissed.

After a quick weapons check, the Seekers remained on standby in the ship closest to the planet. The other ships were waiting in position as well, hidden from the naked eye and some even hidden away from conventional infrared sensors. The wait was agonizing for the Seekers, the tension was rising and getting some people on edge. Thrust was already starting to complain about how long they were waiting.

"This is going to drive me insane. I've had faster times waiting for a stillborn protoform's Spark to burn out." Ramjet said.

"Can we not say things like that?" Dirge groaned.

"What? Lost your nerve already, Dirge?" Ramjet grinned.

"Eat a diode, Ramrod." Hellcat growled. The usually quirky femme was unusually tense and nervous. Slipstream wondered why since this wasn't any different from their other combat operations.

"What's with you, Hellcat? You look more skiddish than normal." Sunstorm pointed out.

"Just tense, that's all. No need to worry."

Sunstorm took her reply in stride, but Slipstream narrowed her eyes at the shorter femme. Any inquiries she had were pushed to the back of her mind as the alarm sounded off.

" _Alert! We've got an unidentified ship folding into our territory. It's not answering any of our messages!"_ The ship's captain reported.

"There you are." Strika growled. "Seekers, fly out and swarm that ship! Apprehend the crew and bring them in."

"Let's go!" Slipstream and her Seekers ran forward and collapsed into their jet modes, shifting forms with expected grace as they flew out of the ship's hangar bay and into space. Like a swarm of angry bees, they converged on the ship with Slipstream in the lead.

The ship that appeared out of fold space was just an average cruiser used for transporting cargo. It looked old and well used, and certainly didn't have the vibe of a ship belonging to a rogue psychopath cannibal. But it was usually the unassuming things that were the most dangerous, and Slipstream cautioned her squadron to be careful. Then Dirge caught something on his scanners.

"Wait, I think I see something stuck to the side of the ship." He said.

"Not now Dirge, we're about to kick ass." Thrust said.

"Seriously, there's something on the ship's hull. Check it out!"

Slipstream did and she detected multiple heat sources attached to the ship. She couldn't properly identify them until she got close enough. That was when she made the horrible realization that they were bombs. "Everyone pull back!"

Her warning came just a few seconds before the plasma density charges detonated and engulfed the ship in a massive fireball. They all exploded at once; incinerating the first wave of flyers who were too slow to turn around. Slipstream and the rest of the second wave barely managed to escape the blast radius of the explosion, but they were still scattered like birds in a strong gust of wind. It goes without saying that almost half of their forces in those few seconds.

Plasma density charges were powerful bombs designed to do maximum damage in any environment. Their main purpose was to eliminate large groups and disorient the survivors lucky enough to escape the bomb's range. Having almost three dozen of them explode at once was enough to blast a hole straight through a mountainside. It was equally destructive in space. It was like watching a star go nova.

"A trap?" Strika raged, wincing from the bright glare of the fiery sphere that tore apart a good chunk of the Seeker armada en route. "Slipstream, what's your status? Slipstream!"

The cruiser suddenly shook violently and a loud groan came from somewhere on the lower deck. Emergency alarms went off and the maintenance team went to work on finding the problem. When Obsidian inquired as to what the problem was, the answer he got back was less than good.

"Our engines are gone?" Obsidian said with unsuppressed shock, a feat in itself. "How?"

"Shape charges, sir. Most of our engines were destroyed and the ship is dead in space. We're running on low power maneuvering thrusters and reserve power to keep our systems online." A mech reported nervously.

"Sabotage!" Strika snarled. That was the only way anyone could sneak a bomb on board her ship. The very thought of it angered her greatly. Then came more bad news.

"Sir, we're getting reports of an unidentified assailant in the cargo hold! She's tearing through the security teams like they're nothing!"

"Damn it all to hell!" Strika raged, slamming a hand on the console in front of her and almost cracked it in half. "Have all units converge on the cargo bay and don't let that glitch step a foot out of that section!"

When he saw his consort marched toward the door, Obsidian asked, "Where are you going, Strika?"

"I'm going to take care of this pest myself!" She growled. "I never should've trusted a Seeker to do a warrior's job!"

Down in the cargo bay, the security teams were struggling against the silver armored femme who had blasted a hole through the cargo bay doors the minute the shape charges took out the ship's engines. The femme was strong and skilled, killing multiple bots with a combination of dual arm-mounted photon cannons and bayonets that severed limbs and stabbed into Sparks.

The femme used her boosters to leap around the room, slashing and shooting at her enemies as she slowly made her way to the doors. A Con threw a grenade at her, but she smacked it away so it exploded over the group shooting at her on her left. She spun around and fired a photon beam at the mech who tried to blow her up and destroyed his head in a single shot.

"Don't let her through! Use everything you got to-agh!" The unit captain's voice cut off in a gurgle as a blade was shoved into his mouth, tearing apart his throat. He choked on his own energon and died a painfully slow death as the femme used his body as a shield to block the blaster bolts coming at her. When she was close enough to the doors, she took her blade out of his mouth and glared into his fading eyes.

"You talk too much." She said and attached two grenades to his chest before throwing him at the barricade. The Cons there could do little else as the body of their commander exploded, incinerating them and blasting them apart, killing most of them instantly. The femme smiled behind her mask and walked over to the doors. But as the door slid open, she was greeted by the burning visage of Strika.

"Get the frag off my ship." Strika growled and threw a punch at the femme's chest. The Seeker was sent flying almost two feet back, landing on her back before rolling to her feet with a massive indent in her chest plate. "You have a lot of nerve invading and damaging my ship. I'll mount your head on my wall!"

The mysterious femme stood up, grunting as she stretched her back. To Strika's surprise, the indent on her chest began to fix itself rapidly, along with her already healing laser burns. Strika narrowed her eyes and took out her war hammer, stomping forward with murderous intent.

"No words of surprise?" The femme chuckled. "No inquiries? I'm sure you have lots of questions."

Strika's immediate response was to leap forward and swing her hammer at the femme. She dodged its downward swing, but the magnetic shockwave it released upon hitting the floor blew her back. She landed on her feet, but Strika was on her in seconds, swinging her hammer like it was a sword half its size. The other Cons grabbed their wounded and backed away to avoid getting caught up in Strika's battle. Whenever Strika entered battle, collateral damage was unavoidable.

But it looked like the Seeker wasn't running away from her at all; she was leading her around the cargo bay, taunting her into leaving a path of destruction in the ship!

"For a femme as large as you, it's still amazing at how bad your aim is!" The femme cackled. Strika roared and her chest plate flipped open to reveal two nitronium missiles. "Oh…well that's unfortunate."

"You talk more than you fight. Just like a Seeker!" Strika fired both missiles, locking onto the femme within their laser guided sights. She watched eagerly as the missiles missed their target…only for the femme to dodge them at the last minute. She ducked under them so they flew inches over her and hit the wall behind her, blasting a hole large enough for the Seeker to escape. "No!"

"See ya, fallout." The femme laughed and allowed herself to be sucked out into space with the other cargo and poor souls unable to get away. She fell out into space and transformed, flying away from the ship and circling around to the front of the bridge, taking aim. "Long live the Seekers!"

"No you don't!"

A purple jet slammed into the silver femme just as she fired her missiles, knocking her aim off course. As the missiles missed the bridge by just a few inches that would've decided whether everyone onboard would've lived or died, the femme switched forms and grabbed Slipstream, throwing her away. Slipstream transformed and brought out her blades, spinning around and throwing her weight into her swings. The femme leaned back from the blades and fired her photon cannons at her to drive her away.

"Don't interfere, you glitch!" She snarled. Slipstream smirked and motioned her to come on.

"You're welcome to stop me from trying." Slipstream taunted. The femme began to charge, but she noticed eight more Seekers approaching them from the left and right. "Well? Come on!"

The femme retracted her weapons and converted into jet mode. "The next time we meet, little girl…your so-called Seekers won't be able to save you."

Slipstream watched the silver jet fly away and went to pursue, only to stop when another ship appeared. This one was larger than the decoy ship, almost the same size as the average Decepticon shuttle. Three missile pods on the starboard side opened up and unleashed its payload on the Seekers, a last minute parting gift to them. A dozen Seekers were killed by the missile rain and Slipstream was forced to pull her remaining forces back. The ship turned away from them and glowed as a fold field surrounded it, and in a flash of light, the vessel was gone.

Slipstream glared at the spot the ship was just in and looked at the disable warship next to her. "This is going to come back and bite me in the ass."

XXXXXX

Following the failed operation, Strika and Obsidian got back the damage reports of the damage to their fleet, and the amount of chaos caused by the rogue was brought to light with unsettling clarity.

The rogue had somehow sabotaged the other ships in the fleet around Dobash. Around the same time when the ships engines were destroyed, the other ships around the planet were similarly disabled with differing intensity. Four battleships went free falling into Dobash's orbit with no control at all-thousands died within less than half an hour. The only bright spot was that the red energon factory wasn't touched at all.

The fact that the fleet was taken down so easily led to some questions being asked; namely if there were traitors within their ranks that sabotaged the ships before the operation. The femme couldn't have done all this herself, and she had too much information on where to hit them for it to be wishful thinking. There had to be a traitor present, but who was it?

"I would like to know that, Slipstream." Strika said as she paced before Slipstream. "There is little solid proof as to who might be her accomplice, but I have a pretty good idea on who dares to betray our cause. And I think you have an idea on what this means."

"Yes sir." Slipstream said. "We have a mole who's been giving away valuable information to the rogue."

"A mole who might be a member of your group. The Seekers were the only ones scattered across the fleet and given access to the ships. All ships were disabled by shape charges placed on the engines. The amount of soldiers dead is unacceptable." Strika listed. She glared at Slipstream. "I don't think I need to tell you how this reflects on your Seekers."

"Strika, my Seekers were almost blown to atoms by two dozen phase charges at point blank range. Despite my people's rocky relationship with the Decepticons, I can say with utmost confidence that we are not planning any sort of coup or civil war against you. Whoever is doing this is just trying to cause discord within our ranks. We're in just as much danger as you are!" Slipstream growled.

Strika slammed her hands on the table, nearly breaking it in half. "Then if you're innocent, you won't object to an investigation by Banzaitron's secret service. I shouldn't have to remind you that we lost four ships and thousands of soldiers in a plan that didn't even get off the ground!"

"That's enough, Strika!" Obsidian looked at the acting Seeker commander. "Slipstream, recall all your Seekers back to Charr and do a roll call of each and every one. Anyone who looks suspicious must be kept a close eye on, even your fellow Seekers. Report anything suspicious findings to us and we'll have the secret service search for signs of the rogue's identity in the background."

"Understood." Slipstream said in a resigned tone.

Slipstream was dismissed and she slinked out of the command room with a very intimidating scowl on her face. The other Cons gave her a wide berth as she stomped down the hall, her temper growing with each step. Some bots gave her dirty looks and she returned them without fear. This was turning into an absolute disaster.

"You Seekers think you're tough slag, huh?"

"Yeah, you think we're just gonna sit on our afts while you make a power play on us?"

Slipstream entered the war room and saw Sunstorm and Dirge butting heads with Runabout, Runamuck and the headmaster Apeface. The other Cons watched the escalating fight with growing interest, making bets on who'll throw the first punch.

"Get out of my face you stupid monkey." Skyquake growled. He towered over the twins, but Apeface reached his chin. "You have no proof that we've done anything. We've lost soldiers of our own in that battle too!"

"Don't act like you're innocent in all this. You Seekers have no problem throwing each other to the wolves. You people are no better that that nimrod Starscream and his psycho sister!" Runabout yelled.

"Don't compare us to those morons!" Dirge hissed. "This is the work of an unaligned rogue or maybe even an Autobot with some sick sense of humor. You have no proof that we even had a hand in all this!"

"Of course we have proof, it all happened right in front of us!" Apeface's simian face snarled and he stomped forward, arms tensing up to throw a punch. He never got the chance as something hit the back of his head and sent him to the ground.

Runabout and Runamuck spun around and saw Slipstream standing over them with her fist outstretched. She shoved her laser cannons into their faces and spoke to them in the most menacing tone she could muster. "I don't need to tell you two bozos what happens if you don't scram."

They got the message. The brothers quickly made tracks in the opposite direction, leaving Apeface behind. Sunstorm kicked him to the side as Dirge walked up to Slipstream.

"Slipstream, thanks for the help, but we had it-"

"Don't say you had that mess under control. That little spat would've turned into a six way fight that would've resulted in all you morons getting thrown into the brig." Slipstream hissed. "And do you know who's going to take the fall for that? ME! As if I don't have enough problems dealing with a fragging traitor!"

Sunstorm walked over to them to calm her down. "Slipstream, please, calm yourself-"

"Don't tell me to calm down. Calm won't solve this fragging mess. Calm won't salvage our already dwindling reputation!" She jabbed a finger into his chest as she flared up spectacularly. "No thanks to that moron Starscream, have to constantly deal with macho mechs and overachievers who think they'll get a promotion by beating one of us into scrap. I have to deal with my own commanders thinking I'm going to stab them in the back. Every single one of you is under my watch and every time you do ding dongs act stupid and look like a damn fool, it reflects on me and my leadership skills. So could you do us all a favor and act like you people have some damn sense?"

She rudely pushed past Sunstorm and nearly trampled Dirge as she marched out of the room and down the hall. Along the way she ran into Snowcat, who just got back from a recon mission. When he saw her, he gave her a jovial wave.

"Hey Slip-"

"Go to hell!" She snarled at him as she walked past him. Snowcat watched her go with an offended huff.

"-Stream." He sighed and continued on his way. Honestly, what was the point of being a Decepticon anymore?"

XXXXXX

Slipstream avoided everyone for the rest of the day. With the investigation into the Seekers in full swing and accusations handing over her head, the Seekers were grounded indefinitely until it was proven otherwise that this was not an inside job. It was only thanks to Obsidian that they weren't sitting in cells or in some prison camp with guns pointed at their heads or bombs implanted into their necks. Not that this was an improvement.

She sat in the lounge once again during after-hours with only a bottle of Fulcrum as her companion. She sat by the window, watching fiery lesions burst up along Charr's flaming surface. An hour into her drinking binge and she wasn't even close to being buzzed. Looking over at the bartender with drunken hatred, wondering if that two-faced bastard Rampart was even giving her alcohol.

"You do realize," Hellcat said as she walked up to Slipstream as if nothing was wrong. "That that's not alcohol, right?"

Slipstream looked at the bottle. "What is it, then?"

"I think its Kremzeek mixed with some circuit breakers to spice it up." Hellcat said. "I made it myself. It's a good after hours drink if you want to stay awake for some overtime-"

She ducked as the bottle was thrown at her head by the irate femme. It crashed into Rampart's head, knocking him into the energon tanks behind him and shattering them. Hellcat winced and made a note to apologize for that later. She looked back at Slipstream, who looked like she was close to strangling her.

"I'm really, really not in the mood for your scrap, Hellcat. So be a dear and go rust in a corner somewhere." She droned and turned back to the window.

Hellcat hummed and, unlike any sensible bot dealing with a pissed off femme, plopped herself into the seat across from her Seeker sister. Slipstream gave her a dirty glare but didn't do anything else. The two femmes sat in silence as the world outside moved without them in slow motion; they took solace in the lull in this madness, just using this chance to sit in peace and process what insanity had taken hold of their organization.

"Slipstream," Hellcat said. "Do you want to be the leader?"

"What was that?" Slipstream glared at Hellcat. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do you really want to be the leader of the Seekers?" Hellcat asked, looking at Slipstream seriously. "And I want an honest answer."

Slipstream started at the femme with a blank look before snorting and leaning back in her seat. "What kind of question is that? Of course I want to be the leader. Someone has to salvage the mess Starscream left behind."

"Even if the Seekers were well beyond fixing?" Hellcat said.

Not liking where this conversation was going, Slipstream gave Hellcat her full attention. "What are you getting at?"

"We Seekers were once a group of explorers, treasure hunters in all but name. We both know how our brotherhood was descended from the Patterners of the distant Age of Evolution, people who carved patterns into the planet itself based on the arrangement of the stars. We became an order of explorers from the Quintesson occupation onwards and then became a sect of Cybertron's aerial defense forces. We grew and the pride we had in our history and our skills became arrogance, and not a single one of us tried to temper that arrogance." Hellcat held up her glass to the orange glow of the lava flows outside, looking into her drink with a misty gaze. "First it was Typhon, then Deadsceram, now Starscream. Three leaders who thought we were on the top of the universe, yet all three were quickly put to heel like rabid animals."

"Yes, yes, I know; Typhon was eaten alive by scraplets placed in his energon, Deadscream was murdered by her brother, and Starscream is facing capital punishment on a backwater planet thousands of light years from home." Slipstream gave a depreciating laugh. "Are you trying to predict how I'm going to die?"

"No, we both know you're too smart to meet an early death. We'll all be torn apart by thousands of Cons who want nothing more than to see us dead. Cons that've had to deal with our slag, no thanks to the last three scrubs who took command before you. They thought they were gods, but died like mortals." She replied. "You used to be like that too. At least, until the war dragged to a stalemate, and then this whole mess started."

"Are you saying I'm humble?"

"No, I'm saying you're smart and cautious, as a leader should be. But the question still remains," Hellcat leaned forward. "Will you take charge now and lead us properly…or will you drag all of us down with you?"

Slipstream glared at Hellcat, who smiled. "I can see the answer in your eyes. If that's the case, you better step it up, before our rogue has the entire Decepticon army coming down on us."

XXXXXX

"So there's nothing of note to report?" Strika asked Banzaitron, who shook his head.

"I'm sorry sir, but none of the Seekers are making any suspicious movements that could relate to treachery. Slipstream herself is completely clean as well." He said.

Strika exhaled air from her intakes and waved him away. Banzaitron left the command room, leaving Strika and Obsidian alone. Since it was only them in the room, Obsidian decided to speak his mind on the problem at hand.

"This is an extremely time wasting route to take, Strika. You're letting your personal view on the Seekers cloud your judgment." He told her.

"And you're trying to find complicated answers to a simple question. Slipstream knows who the rogue is, or at least has an idea, but her refusal to cooperate with us shows where her loyalties lie." Strika said. "If it's not her, then someone close to her has been feeding information to the rogue. As far as I'm concerned, all Seekers are guilty."

"Strika, we are clearly missing something here, and I believe that we're being led astray in another direction." Obsidian went on. "Think, Strika, you know better than to accept things at face value. These attacks were overly aggressive and were aimed supposedly at random…but what if they weren't?"

"Elaborate." Strika grunted.

"I have noticed that the rogue's attacks on our various installations were coincidentally located near regional aerospace bases and Seeker carriers. Now, you would think that the rogue may really be colluding with the Seekers, but think on it. What if this wasn't just some secret conspiracy, what if the rogue deliberately chose these locations because she knew that those bases were close by."

Seeing the realization in Strika's eyes, Obsidian continued with his theory. "Strika, what if those installations weren't the real target…but the Seekers were?"

"But if that's the case, then the Seekers would be the victims all along. Who would go to such great lengths to target them, and why?" She asked.

"That's the question. I fear that this rogue has been systematically isolating the Seekers from the rest of the army to better annihilate them from within. We may have been going about this the wrong way."

"So what do we do?"

"Keep an eye on Slipstream and monitor the other Seekers in the field. Someone is trying to cripple our aerospace corps, and they aren't doing this to win the war. This is a personal matter."

XXXXXX

Slipstream sat in her quarters watching old Polyhexian movies on her solivision (which was, according to Swindle, a vintage antique from Harmonex) when she heard a knock on her door. With an annoyed sigh, she paused her movie and went to answer it.

"I swear to Primus, Sunstorm, if you're trying to convert me to that fake religion again, I'm gonna-"Slipstream blinked when she saw it wasn't Sunstorm but Hellcat at her door. "Oh. It's you. Something wrong?"

"Banzaitron wants to speak to you about something in the hangar." Hellcat said. Slipstream scowled.

"What does he want now? I already answered his damn questions." She said.

"Don't ask me. He just sent me to get you because you were less likely to knock me out." Hellcat said.

"He's got it on that one, but he clearly doesn't know me well enough." She sighed and pushed past Hellcat. "Well, let's see what that creep wants with me today."

The two femme walked down to the hangar area where the off duty ships were posted. It was quiet, as there was little maintenance to be done on the ships lately, which was rare as there was always some kind of loud activity going on in the area. And it certainly wasn't the first place Slipstream thought about having a classified meeting with a secret service agent, but Banzaitron wasn't the sanest of mechs. The guy was just a few blips higher than Bludgeon in that regard.

Hellcat led Slipstream to a far off corner of the room, near one of the warships. Hellcat hung back as Slipstream waited for Banzaitron, tapping her foot impatiently. "Where is he? I thought Banzaitron was more punctual than this." She huffed. After a few more minutes of waiting, Slipstream turned to Hellcat, only to find that her partner was gone. "Oh no, don't even think about it, Hellcat. If this is some stupid prank you and Ramjet cooked up, brig or no, I'm shoving my bayonet up your afts!"

"I can assure you, Slipstream," A hauntingly familiar scratchy voice said from behind her. "This is no prank. This is…retribution."

Slipstream froze and turned her head to see a figure walk out from the shadows. Even in the dim, dark purple lighting, she recognized the femme as the rogue Seeker that had caused her so much trouble. But her face plate was retracted, allowing Slipstream to see her features…and her shocking identity. It was a face she only saw in her nightmares.

"Deadscream?" Slipstream gasped a hand over her mouth.

Deadscream, Starscream's sister who was killed by her brother with a stab directly into her Spark, was alive and standing before her like some undead ghoul. She no different from her days before the Uprising; a dark grey mixed with black, with red power lines zigzagging along her body. But she was riddled with numerous scars, especially along her face, with the metal near her mouth being slit along her jaw. And her eyes, they were the same dark crimson hue, laced with that barely hidden madness that just threatened to explode.

"H-How? How are you…?" Slipstream was speechless. She was talking to a femme who should be dead. No one could survive getting stabbed through the Spark! She saw the whole thing herself!

"How am I still alive? That's a long story, little streamer." Deadscream rasped, her arms twitching as if itching to kill something. "All I can say is that you can thank a certain blacklisted mech on Ultra Magnus's list for my resurrection. A mech I fully intend to kill after I'm done running your Seekers into the ground!"

"Hold on, you want to do what?! Why are you targeting us, Deadscream? What have we done to you?"

"You know damn well what you ungrateful ingrates did. You filthy cretins had the gall to stand there while Starscream undermines my authority and practically sells the Seekers to the Decepticons! Joining that coward like he knew what the hell he wanted to do with his good for nothing life!" Deadscream gave a scorn-filled laughed that made Slipstream wince. "How's that going for you, anyway? Embroiled in a stupid civil war with the ones who started this mess light years from the front lines. It's so pathetic."

Slipstream looked over at Hellcat, who didn't say a thing the entire time. "And what's your reason for all of this, aside from planning my assassination?"

"Don't be so hard on the girl, streamer. Hellcat here chanced upon me one day near a dying star and offered to help me get revenge on Starscream for tarnishing my legacy and dragging our name through the slag." Deadscream grinned, lips peeling back to reveal dirty, rust covered teeth that looked more at home in a shark's mouth. "She's not a fan of the Seekers, as you can see, and she wanted a part in torching this rotting corpse that used to be the Seekers."

"So this is a coup?" Slipstream snorted. "I thought you were more original than that, Deadscream."

"You're mistaken, Streamer. I don't want control…I want death! I want to burn this shambling husk of my Seekers to the ground and rebuild it properly. Once we were revered, but now we are seen as reflections of Starscream, cowardly weasels lower than dirt who plot and scheme and cheat like common thugs!" Her eyes glowed dangerously as her temper flared. "One can only take so much before someone snaps and says frag it all, let it burn!"

Slipstream narrowed her eyes and glared at Hellcat. "And this is why you're helping her? Because you think Starscream ruined the Seeker name?"

"He killed us, Slipstream, and now we're barely a shadow of what we used to be." Hellcat said, her usually bubbly voice somber and quiet. "Deadscream…said it can't be saved anymore, so it all must go before we can remake it into what it should be."

"And what is that?"

"An empire. One which carries the universe on its wings…with us at the top."

"And what better way to do that by isolating the Seekers and tearing you apart slowly? No help, no comrades…no way out." Deadscream cackled. "And once I'm done with the Seekers, Starscream is next. I've been planning his death for eons."

Slipstream growled. "I'm not going to let you destroy the Seekers! They're my responsibility now!"

"They're a failure, girl, an embarrassment!" Deadscream snarled. "Don't act all noble now and go down with the ship!"

"Please, Slipstream, don't try to be a hero. Deadscream promised to spare you, but only if you stand down. I don't want you to die when you have so much potential." Hellcat pleaded. "Future generations can see you as a hero."

"Hero? None of us are heroes here, no matter how much we want to see ourselves that way." Slipstream said. "If you want to rule the Seekers so badly, Deadscream, you're going to have to do it over my rusting corpse!"

Slipstream aimed her cannons at the air lock controls and fired two laser blasts at the panel, destroying them and causing the hangar doors to slide open with a groan. Air was sucked out of the room and Deadscream struggled to maintain her stability in the depressurizing chamber, but Slipstream slammed into her at full speed and they went flying out of the base at Mach 2 speeds. Hellcat didn't even have time to react as she was left in the dust with her two companions a speck in the distance.

Slipstream threw punches into Deadscream's face as they flew through the air. "You think you can destroy my Seekers?!" She said with each punch. They crashed through an ashen pillar and were thrown apart by the impact.

Slipstream hit the ground, landing hard on her head before landing on her side. She rolled to a stop and coughed up some ash she inhaled. Looking up, she saw Deadscream walking towards her, wiping energon from her split lip. Slipstream stood up and broke into a run at Deadscream, bringing out her arm cannons and charging at her former leader. She boosted into the air and lunged at her, but a small form collided mid-air into her, sending them both crashing into the foot of a mountain.

The two femmes hit the ground and stopped dangerously close to a lava river. Hellcat's back was facing the river, while Slipstream was higher up on the slope, looking livid.

"Slipstream, please. Deadscream's our only hope for salvation." She said.

"Salvation? That glitch is putting the whole Decepticon army after us!" Slipstream shouted. "What's her plan? Have us fight the Autobots and Decepticons? Because that went well for us back on Cybertron."

"We don't have a choice! We've lost what made us Seekers. Right now, we're just a bunch of glorified flyers with s superiority complex!" hellcat exclaimed. "Of course I don't want to end it this way, but we need to change if we're to survive to see the end of this war."

"The only change going on will be in my Seekers," Slipstream said. "And it'll be under my leadership!"

Slipstream flew at Hellcat, but a fist to her jaw sent her face first into the ash covered dirt. Snarling, she jumped up and slashed her blades at Deadscream, who deflected her blades and grabbed her by the neck, lifting her up and slamming her to the ground.

"You're pathetic. 4 million years of war and you're still the opportunistic glitch like Starscream. All bark…and no bite!" Deadscream jerked her head back to avoid the bayonet shoved in her face. She batted Slipstream's arm aside and kicked her in the face. "That's the problem with our kind. For all that scrap about chance, about transforming, we never truly evolve!"

Slipstream tried to transform, but Deadscream stomped her foot on her chest and glared into her eyes. "All things in nature evolve, and so must we! We Seekers tried to fight it, but nature doesn't work that way." She spat. "You can kick and scream all you want, but it won't matter in the end!"

Deadscream threw Slipstream and the Seeker flew through a rock formation and crashed into an ash mound. Deadscream boost jumped over to her and hissed like a serpent.

"In the end," Deadscream growled, her mouth unhinging to reveal the full length of her teeth. "Evolution always wins."

Slipstream roared and leapt t Deadscream, grabbing her head and slamming her into the hardened magma below them. She then threw her into a hill, shifting to jet mode and pelting her with missiles. Deadscream's form vanished in a cloud of flames Slipstream unleashed her entire missile payload on her and didn't stop until she was out of missiles. Once she was done, Slipstream went back to robot mode and fell toward the thick cloud of smoke, ready to hack Deadscream's body up for good measure. She wasn't expecting Deadscream, body burning and missing numerous parts, to lunge out of the cloud and kick her aside.

Deadscream gave Slipstream no quarter as she rammed into her and they slid across the ground. She tried to claw Slipstream's eyes out, but Slipstream kicked her back and tried to fly away. Deadscream grabbed her as she left the ground and they flew through the air punching and kicking, slamming back into the ground. Deadscream fell on top of Slipstream and tried to punch her, but her arm was caught. Slipstream tried to throw a punch of her own, but Deadscream caught her arm as well. They struggled in a deadlock, trying to overpower each other, when Slipstream's right arm split apart and fired a plasma burst from her transformed hand. The blast caught Deadscream in the face and she reeled back in agony.

"Thank you, Swindle." Slipstream muttered. Deadscream stumbled back, clutching at her burning face. Slipstream hoped that she had blown the psycho's head clean off, but she only managed to blast off half of her face. Deadscream gingerly took her hand off her face to reveal the burnt metal and circuits slowly welding together.

"If Starscream fought half as well as you, then perhaps he wouldn't have been such a failure." Deadscream hissed. She grunted as she felt the sting of her face knitting itself back together. "Too bad that skill is useless against an immortal!"

A missile slammed into her shoulder, knocking her back. Slipstream looked up and saw Hellcat flying toward them, firing her laser cannons to pin Deadscream down. The rabid femme howled and leapt at Hellcat like a rocket, grabbing hold of her in midflight and throwing her to the ground. Hellcat switched forms and used her thrusters to break her fall, but Deadscream planted her feet into her back and slammed her into the ground.

"What is this? Did you finally start to grow a conscious, now of all times? You pathetic waste of metal. And here I thought you were actually worth something." Deadscream scowled, digging her heel into the back of Hellcat's head. "Well, as my proto-carrier always said, you have no one to trust…" Her arm morphed into a neutron beam cannon that sizzled with energy. "...Except yourself!"

"No!" Slipstream rushed at Deadscream in jet mode, firing her laser cannons. Deadscream fired her beam cannon and hit her in the right wing. Slipstream transformed and hit the ground before leaping up and kicking Deadscream in the face.

Deadscream grabbed her leg and threw her to the ground, pointing her cannon at Slipstream's face. "Just die already!"

"Freeze!"

A bright spotlight shined down on Deadscream and she looked up to see two dropships hovering over them. Strika was in one of the ships, ordering her to stand down.

"Deadscream, retract your weapons and surrender for crimes against the Decepticon empire!" Strika ordered. "This is your only warning."

"Frag you!" Deadscream boosted into the air and lunged at the ship Strika was in. "You can't kill-"

Deadscream's body was lit up by a combined artillery assault from both ships. Slipstream and Hellcat watched as her body was torn apart in the air, blown apart, ripped to shreds, incinerated on the spot. The bombardment only lasted a few minutes, but her body was little more than a ravaged endoskeleton with a few strips of metal and circuitry hanging onto it. A final missile strike blasted the corpse over the femmes into the lava river, where it sank into the molten pool.

Slipstream watched the body sink beneath the infernal waves and sagged in relief. "Anyone who says they're immortal usually don't stay dead after dip in some molten slag. I hope you'll find your fantasy empire in hell, Deadscream."

XXXXXX

Once everything calmed down, Slipstream explained what happened to her superiors, with some added evidence from Hellcat's confessions. Strika and Obsidian acquitted the Seekers of accusations and actually apologized to Slipstream for the misunderstanding (Obsidian had to force Strika to do so). But it was a hollow victory. Slipstream was now wondering how brought back Deadscream, and how she was able to heal from all those wounds she dealt her. It was obvious that Deadscream wasn't a normal cybertronian anymore and it was clear that Hellcat didn't know anything either.

"She didn't go into specifics. Deadscream was just concerned with finding the person who brought her back and murdering him slowly and painfully." Hellcat said from her seat in her cell. Slipstream glared at her outside the laser bars, not knowing what to think after what happened. "For the record, I don't regret what I did. I mean, I regret teaming up with Deadscream, but I'd do it all again in order to secure Seeker preservation."

"You honestly think we're on a downward spiral?"

"Yes, because we're so busy waxing our own paint jobs, we fail to see the looks of disdain and hatred the other Cons send our way." Hellcat replied. "And out there in the chaos of the frontlines, they treat us like we're Triple M. How long will it be before someone says to hell with it and starts torching us? If Deadscream had that thought, then you can be sure others will think so too. I'm not being dragged down with you people!"

Slipstream shook her head. "If that's true, then I'll make sure that doesn't happen. I'm not Starscream or Deadscream, Hellcat, so don't make that mistake again."

Slipstream walked to the door, but Hellcat gave her some parting words before she left.

She's not dead, you know. Deadscream is…different now. She'll come back, she always come back. And when she does, there will be a reckoning. I've seen her survive much worse. So be on your guard, Slipstream. Deadscream isn't called the immortal for nothing."

XXXXXX

Miles away from the Decepticon headquarters, the dark, ash covered night air was suddenly filled with the horrific cries of an enraged soul as a burning, partially melted skeleton climbed out of the lava river with blazing eyes. The immortal did not fear death, for death had no hold over her.

* * *

 **I am so sorry for dishing out an incomplete chapter. I don't even know how that happened. It's been a rough week for me, guys, but I managed to fix it...**

 **hopefully.**


	17. Louder Than Words

Chapter 16-Louder Than Words

They called him the Voice. A boisterous Autobot who would broadcast his words to all who listened on every Autobot channel on the Grid. He was a mech who pumped up his comrades, gave them strength and courage no matter where they were. He was no fighter, merely a preacher who wanted to see his friends come back alive.

But now the Voice was silent. His body, coated in space dust and burn marks, floated aimlessly through space like a piece of forgotten debris. A jagged wound divided his chest like a lightning bolt, revealing the outer casing of his Spark core.

People loved hearing the Voice, but there were some who wanted him silenced.

XXXXXX

"Sir, we have an incoming transmission from an Ilxian long haul freighter."

That wasn't what Silverbolt was expecting when he took operational command of the Hub's east wing. He sighed, not wanting to deal with those two-timing Ilxian smugglers. They were more trouble to deal with than it was worth, almost as bad as Swindle. But they knew better than to bother the bots at Orbital Command, so they wouldn't be calling if it wasn't for a good reason (that and very few organic races wanted to deal with any cybertronians these days unless they wanted something).

"Project me," Silverbolt said. As soon as the dark green hairless face of the Ilxian captain appeared on screen, he cleared his throat and announced in a loud, clear voice, "This is Silverbolt, regional commander of this residence. Please state your business."

"I am Ku'arn, captain of the yar Star Trawler. And I believe we have something that belongs to you." Ku'arn stepped aside to allow another face on the screen, a familiar Autobot.

"Per-"The red and yellow mech coughed lightly before grinning. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Blaster?!" Silverbolt exclaimed in shock, along with the rest of the Aerialbots.

Later on, Perceptor had Blaster in the medical bay running some diagnostic scans on his body, as well as cleansing his body of any residual radiation lingering in his systems. All the while, Blaster explained what happened to him.

"I don't remember. My memory is patchy at beast, and that particular cycle is just one big blank." Blaster said.

Silverbolt crossed his arms. "So after all this time, we still don't know who silenced the Voice."

"I'm done." Perceptor said, moving the scanner away from Blaster. "You can sit up now."

"Thanks, Perceptor." Blaster sat up with a grunt, and rolled his stiff shoulders. "I'd hoped you could shed some light on what happened to me…and why."

"It was always assumed to have been an inside job. All the security footage was scrubbed with a nano-virus and to have got that close you, to have looked you right in the eye," Silverbolt's expression grew uneasy as he looked at Blaster. "The assassin had to be one of us…"

"An Autobot." Blaster whispered.

XXXXXX

News spread fast of Blaster's retrieval and recovery. It wasn't just because of his Voice persona that he got such a warm welcome; Blaster was always very popular with the Autobots due to his natural flare and charisma. He was always friendly with the bots, and he had a flare for the dramatic that almost rivals Jazz in some cases. It was hard not to crack a smile in his presence, hence why Ultra Magnus made an effort to steer clear of him.

Once he was cleared by the doctors, Blaster was almost immediately swarmed the second he left the med bay. Autobots from all over the station gathered to greet him and see him in the alloy. Mechs shook his hand, femmes asked for his autograph, even some of the Minicons scattered about his feet to poke at his legs at least once to see if he was real. There even some bots on missions begging to come back to get a chance to see if he was really back.

Being the nice guy he was, Blaster shook their hands with a smile, accepting their hellos and welcome backs, their praise and adoration. But with each handshake, he wondered…was it them?

Once the fanfare died down, Blaster went to the security room and immediately started checking the footage. In an effort to jog his memory, Blaster had Perceptor wire him archived footage of assorted broadcasts from his rabble-rousing, rallying-cry heyday. It was like watching a stranger…

" _Forget your "Never retreat, never surrender", that's a given, something imprinted in Autobot CNA. No, I'm talking loud and proud, and only stop swingin' one moment after you're already dead!"_ The familiar but unfamiliar mech said on the screen said. " _That's how we'll beat 'em."_

Blaster remembered how his life was before the war, a radio broadcaster reporting the news from atop a communications tower in Iacon, his voice spreading out to all corners of the Grid and even beyond. He was one of a few who openly disavowed the senate when they started censoring information, and he was among the first to witness the early days of Optimus Prime. The first speech, the first battle of what could become the Third Cybertronian War, the beginning of the end of days. Blaster made sure not to take up arms, he'd use his words to inspire or bring down someone. He wasn't going to sully his beliefs by staining his hands with energon.

He was famous among the Autobots for his voice, his words, and his attitude. The Voice was a persona he used back in the days of the Functionists and senate, something to mask himself to avoid capture or death. Sure, he was a friendly enough bot, fun to have drinks with and whatnot, but more often than not, people expected the Voice, not Blaster. The real Blaster was a pacifist who refused to fight even when the Decepticons stormed Iacon. Who refused to fight when Thunderwing ravaged Cybertron? As a matter of fact, did anyone aside from just a handful of friends, _real_ friends, know that he rarely fought in the field?

Looking at the footage now, Blaster realized that it this past self, this false persona named The Voice, is the Blaster the Autobots wanted. But he couldn't be that person anymore. 'They don't know the real me,' He thought. 'They just want the version of me that gives them hope.'

That thought alone was enough to even make him cynical. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if it was worth it pursuing the end to this case of his. The war effort was already tense enough as it is without the threat of traitors hovering over everyone's heads. Resources stretched to a critical level, one step from breaking point. Autobots held themselves to a code that defined how they should uphold themselves, but it was clear that not everyone could be squeaky clean like Optimus Prime. They couldn't afford to fight dangers both outside and in.

'I should have never come back. If I was gone, at least the illusion of me, of what I was, would have been preserved.' Blaster thought with a tired sigh. 'They want me to make a difference again, as if I ever truly made one in the first place with how this war is going.'

Shutting the video off, Blaster suddenly saw a figure standing right behind him, with a weapon in hand. He jumped out of his seat seconds before a plasma blast blew apart the monitors where he was just standing. He rolled to his feet and took out his blaster, firing a few plasma bolts at his attacker, but the mysterious assailant was gone.

"Someone thought I was doing something right," Blaster muttered with a growl. "Must be, since they're trying so hard to kill me. Looks like the bastard's back to finish the job."

XXXXXX

Blaster didn't raise the alarms or call in the security team. The only bot he trusted was Perceptor, who was exempt from his list of a thousand and one suspects. When checking the security footage, Blaster couldn't find it in himself to be surprised when he learned that nothing useful had been recorded before the attack.

"This is all we have. Whoever attacked you was using some kind of white-static cloud to offset the internal security monitors." Perceptor said, waving a hand at the wall of staticy monitors before them. There was an image there, but it was too blurry to properly see who it was. "However, the cloud tech has limitations. This was someone in a hurry. Given time, I could probably resolve the image."

"Time is something I may not have." Blaster said.

"What do you suggest?" Perceptor asked.

"Well, for a start, you can de-archive the personnel rosters from my old orbital array. See who was around then whose here now." Blaster glared at the blurred out figure on the screen. "And…we can try forcing the issue!"

XXXXXX

Almost a day later, Blaster initiated his plan. From the safety of the broadcast station on the far side of the Hub, Blaster issued a veiled challenge to the assassin for all to hear.

"You heard it here first! The Voice is back!" Blaster exclaimed on all channels of the Hub's communications network. "I'll be broadcasting live to all Autobot outposts, a fully amped audio-visual shot to the system. A guaranteed tonic for all the troops! So get those flags unfurled and your receptors ready for my patented patriotic patter. The next glorious era of Autobot ascendancy starts here!"

After making sure that everyone heard his voice, Blaster cut the feed and leaned back in his seat. He leaned back in his seat exhausted, the stress of what he was doing and his lack of practice since returning from the brink of death took a lot out of him. Still, now that he's made the challenge, it was just a waiting game.

In the meantime, he had a chance to go back and see just what happened. Picking up a nerv-gear, Blaster placed it on his head and turned it on to that fateful day. Using this device, he could virtually go back to the time of his near-death at the hands of his comrade and try to unpick some crucial detail from that patchwork memory of his.

With a deep breath, Blaster focused on the pre-set settings and prepared himself. "Simulation on."

" _This is Blaster, on approach from Vector nine-oh-five."_

" _Roger, Blaster. Please cut power. We'll take it from here."_

 _Blaster felt elated when he reached the Orbital Array of the still in construction Command Hub that was being built by Autobot architects. It was his home away from home. Honestly, it felt like he spent more time above Cybertron than he did on it, with how long he spent along on the station._

 _The tracking beams pulled his ship in as he mentally prepared for quite possibly the biggest broadcast of his career. As per his habit, the broadcast suite was cleared upon his arrival. Once he was docked, he left his ship and headed towards the suite where he would be calling all Autobot units on Cybertron. He needed space to prepare, to get into character, though he was far from the shy, retiring type; but a lot was riding on him being larger than life and then some._

 _It was only a week after what classified as the Cataclysm, Thunderwing's rampage that ripped apart Autobot and Decepticon territories and killed thousands of soldiers on both sides. Thunderwing was defeated through the use of K-bombs that nearly cracked the planet all the way down to its mantle, and in the aftermath, both sides were run ragged by the apocalyptic assault. Unfortunately, the Decepticons were quicker to recover, and under general Strika's leadership, they used the fallout period to make significant advancements._

 _Autobot territories were not only lost, they were destroyed. Strika was relentless, throwing all of her resources into beating them down without pause and the strain of these constant raids were starting to wear away at the already battle weary Autobots. And when news came of a possible big push from the Decepticons on Iacon, things were reaching a fever pitch._

 _Tired, outnumbered, besieged almost around the clock, they needed The Voice._

" _Alright, let's do this." Blaster cracked his knuckles and prepared to give his speech, but he heard the door slide open and looked back. "Hm? Oh, it's you. What's up?"_

 _The mysterious visitor pointed his gun at Blaster and muttered, "I'm sorry."_

 _He pulled the trigger and everything went white._

Blaster pulled the headset off and scowled. He couldn't see his attacker's face, but he knew what happened afterwards. Because of his little "accident" the broadcast didn't come through, and only nano-kliks after that the Decepticons had moved in for the kill. There was no coincidence; it was timed with his attempted murder. But the question still stood-who tried to kill him?

XXXXXX

Later on, Blaster met with Perceptor in the security room, where they spoke of possible suspects.

"We have four matches. Those who were within striking distance then, and are again now." Perceptor pointed at the four mechs on screen. "Mirage, Beachcomber, Inferno and Bluestreak."

"Unbelievable," Blaster muttered. "If you'd asked be before all this happened, I'd say I trusted each of them with my life!"

"And now?"

"I'm not sure I trust anyone." He said. "I've got to know, Perceptor. I don't want to, but I've got to. Now, anything less than the whole truth…will destroy me."

XXXXXX

Four mechs, four possible suspects who were possible turncoats. There were hundreds of ways he could go about this, but they all involved dragging other people into an already complicated situation. Meeting them directly wasn't an option, since they could easily feign innocence until they were alone, then it'd be lights out. No, he needed to be the bait and draw the culprit to him. And he knew exactly how to do that.

" _Listen up, sharpshooters, this is Blaster broadcasting live to the far corners of the galaxy, bringing you the word to the wise, the chatter that matters."_ Blaster's voice reached every part of the Hub as he issued his second challenge to his would-be assassin. _"It seems words like "impossible" and "insurmountable" have crept into the Autobot lexicon while I've been away, so I'm making it my first order of business to reinvigorate the vocabulary of victory. So say after me, we will triumph, we will climb the depths of resolve and self-belief we thought were out of reach!"_

A mech walked towards the isolated broadcast station as the broadcast was going on. With no one around, killing Blaster should be easier now, and the damage could be mitigated. He destroyed the security footage and dropped Perceptor, so all that was left was the whole reason he was in this mess. Even as he stood in the doorway of the station, he could hear Blaster's voice all around him.

" _And in the dark times ahead, that faith in our own, personal well of fortitude and resilience will light our path to a glorious destiny. Win or lose, live or die, nothing and no one…is ever gonna stop us!"_

The assassin threw the grenade into the station and shut the air lock doors just as the grenade exploded. He could see the broadcast station go up in flames and drift off into space, along with Blaster's scattered remains. May Primus rest his Spark.

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would've believed it." The assassin spun around to see Blaster walked around the corner, pistol in hand. "So tell me, why'd you do it…Beachcomber?"

Beachcomber looked at Blaster in shock, having already thought the Autobot was on the station. "But-"

"Recorded it a couple of kliks back. While you were stalking…I was waiting." Blaster said, keeping his gun trained on the usually pacifistic mech. "It's over. Don't make this any harder on yourself than it already is."

"N-no! Don't you see? I can't stop myself!" Beachcomber cried, firing his gun at Blaster, forcing him to duck to the side. "I CAN'T!"

Blaster took cover behind one of the storage servers as Beachcomber opened fire on him without mercy. "C'mon, Beachcomber, you gotta do better than that! 'Cant?'"

Beachcomber's body was twitching with each step, as if he wasn't in control of his body. Against his will, he transformed to his hover craft mode and he slowly edged down the aisle searching for Blaster. "They did something to me. Put something in my head. I tried to resist. I tried. But…I just couldn't!"

It was no use in hiding from Beachcomber. His alt mode was equipped with geo-sensors normally used to determine the composition of various terrain, such as locating fuel and other resources. In this case, he would be able to sniff out Blaster's energon signature in his infrasystem. Good thing Blaster wasn't actually trying to hide from him. He waited for Beachcomber to get within range before pushing the server over, causing the rest to topple like dominoes. Beachcomber was able to back away before he could be pinned under the heavy machines.

"Stop! Please!" Beachcomber pleaded. He spun around and fired his auto-guns at Blaster. "I wanted this quick and clean. You were never meant to suffer."

"Well, gee, thanks. But, see," Blaster transformed into his alt mode-a mobile surveillance vehicle with two large speakers on top. Beachcomber got a firsthand experience in getting hit by a full blast of sonic waves from Blaster that sent him flying back. "I've never been the type to go quietly!"

Beachcomber hit the floor hard and reverted back to his robot mode, getting to his knees. Looking back, he saw that Blaster was completely gone. "Sorry, but it's not enough. There's only two ways this ends. Either I kill you, or you kill me!" And he was hoping it would be the latter.

He cautiously walked through the corridor, which felt darker now that the alarms had been shut off. Beachcomber couldn't find any sign of where Blaster had run off to, but he could hear his voice perfectly clear.

"Tell me more, Beachcomber."

"Huh?"

"Who did this to you? How?" Blaster asked unseen. "If I'm about to bite the big one, I'd at least like to know who's pulling the strings."

Beachcomber spun around, but he couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. "Where-"

"Oh, hereabouts. Just making sound jump through some hoops, y'know." Beachcomber's teeth clenched as Blaster's voice increased in intensity in his audials. "Now…the name!"

"B-Bombshell!" He whimpered. A sharp pain rang through his head as he remembered that horrifying moment when he was at the Decepticons' mercy. "I was ambushed, restrained, and then…he-he was with Shockwave, an…instecticon. He did something to me…injected something into my neuro-processor." Beachcomber held his head in his hands as he remembered all the things the parasite compelled him to do under compulsion. "It made me do terrible, terrible things, Blaster! I can't forget it!"

"Easy, easy." Blaster came out of hiding and calmly approached the distraught Autobot. "We can help you, Beachcomber. But first, you've got to help yourself."

"Stop!" Beachcomber spun around and leveled the gun at Blaster's face. "Don't come any closer! I'll shoot!"

"No. You won't." Blaster said, not taking his gaze off Beachcomber's faceted visor lens. "You'll fight. You'll resist. You'll overcome. You're an Autobot. That's what we do."

"I'm…" His arm was shaking as he struggled to keep from pulling the trigger. "Not strong enough."

"You are. There's a moment in everyone's life when they look inside themselves and find that solid, hard core that can't be corrupted or broken or trampled. It happens when it's darkest, when we're alone and in pain and afraid that we find it. That's when we truly understand who we truly are." Blaster said passionately, still staring straight into Beachcomber's eyes. "Who are you, Beachcomber?"

Beachcomber gritted his teeth and fought against the strong impulses controlling his functions. His head erupted in pain, but he still fought it, not wanting to add killing a comrade to the list of atrocities he's committed under Bombshell's control. "I'm…mnnn…m…ME!"

Beachcomber gave a feral yell and threw the gun aside, and fell to his knees, collapsing from the mental relapse caused by his resistance to the manipulator in his brain. Blaster caught him before he could hit the floor and that was when Silverbolt ran in with the security team.

"Blaster?" He called out.

Blaster held up a hand. "I'm alright. Thanks for holding back."

"I almost didn't." Silverbolt knelt down over Beachcomber. "When I saw you were unarmed, I was ready to come storming in."

Funny thing is, I wasn't unarmed. I used the biggest and best weapon in my arsenal." Blaster gave a small, relieved smile. "My voice."

XXXXXX

Blaster walked into the Hub's med bay, where he saw Perceptor standing in front of the CR chamber that was holding a comatose Beachcomber. "Perceptor. How you doin'?"

"I'm alive." Perceptor said mildly, rubbing the spot where he was shot. "I'll settle for that."

"And Beachcomber?" Blaster looked up at the mech inside the glowing tube. "What's the prognosis?"

"Not good. The cerebro-shell burned itself out, but it took a goodly portion of his neo-cortex with it." Perceptor said, and Blaster winced. Damage to one's neo-cortex, the frontal part of the brain module that was arguably the most important part that dealt with memories and neuro-functions, was akin to brain damage. This meant that Beachcomber could be looking at spending the rest of his life a cripple, in a coma or with a severe case of amnesia. "You?"

"Angry. I've got work to do here. But when that's done, I intend to find Bombshell." Blaster growled.

"And?"

"The last voice he hears…will be mine!"

Blaster's words were vague, but he intended it to be that way. Why say what you're going to do, when you can easily show it? After all…actions speak louder than words.


	18. Ghost in the Machine

Chapter 17-Ghost in the Machine

"KOPESH!"

The terrifying war cry could be heard in the chaos taking place in the Stellar Cartography Archive. The space station, a neutral affiliated installation meant to serve as a stand in for the Hall of Records in storing historical information, was now in flames. Drones and other machines were destroyed and left in pieces on the floor, and bodies littered the floors with singed cuts etched into their forms. It was a total massacre of untold magnitude, and the one who caused such devastation was…Deadscream!

"I know he's near!" Deadscream growled, steam rising from the gaps in her armor, a sign of her internal systems overheating. She paid it no mind as her red eyes darted about like a crazed animal, her flaming energo-sword casting a hellish light across her face. "Where are you, Kopesh!"

It had been a long and annoying journey since she revived herself from the molten rivers of Charr. Being constantly burned alive was a rare experience she did not want to go through again, as she had to find a way to clean off the lava that was negating her regeneration ability. Deadscream wanted so bad to go right up to the Decepticon base and tear Slipstream a new one, but she had other priorities to focus on. Namely searching for the mech who made her this way…Kopesh.

The former Seeker commander could sense his vile presence tainting this sterile, rarefied space. She knew his stench from her intimate time with him; a dark tangible stigma no purification system could ever purge. That was the suffocating aura of tainted quintessence, an aura she was all too familiar with. Only Kopesh could leave such darkness behind! Everywhere he went, darkness and dire consequence is left in his wake and Deadscream vowed to torch it along with him!

Deadscream took a step toward the elevator lift, but took an ion blast to the shoulder, knocking her back a couple of steps. It came from the second level, where she looked up with a demonic sneer and saw Ultra Magnus standing there in all his glory, like a lone sentinel of justice. Just the sight of the Tyrest Accord officer made her face morph into a horrifying snarl.

"Deadscream, this has to stop." Ultra Magnus said.

"Never!" Deadscream growled, her lips peeled back to reveal her teeth. Ultra Magnus frowned and raised his ion rifle at her.

"Deadscream, I am a duly appointed enforcer of the Tyrest Accord. We can do this my way…or the hard way!" Ultra Magnus knew this line was where the border between peaceful negotiations and outright violence was. Normally his prey took the hard way and he was happy to drop them on the spot and send them to some far off prison facility, but Deadscream was a different matter entirely. He heard the stories about her, how insane she was. Honestly, he was hoping she would take the easy way out for the sake of conserving energy.

But Deadscream was nothing if not unpredictable. And it showed in her response. "Hard."

Deadscream boosted up to the second floor and kicked Ultra Magnus in the face, knocking him back. He was barely stunned, but he wasn't expecting her to shove the boosters in her feet into his face and activate them, dousing his face in superhot exhaust flames. Ultra Magnus reeled back in agony, clutching his face as Deadscream surged forward and slammed her fist into his jaw. She pummeled his face until he caught her arm and threw her across the atrium into a wall.

"Damn," He growled. The pain was already fading away, but it still hurt. And that didn't do favors for his temper. "Deadscream, I'm not your enemy, but you've left behind a trail of carnage in your wake across the quadrant and no one seems to know why. So please, enlighten me!"

"Like you would understand! You wouldn't understand how grand his plans are, how far he's willing to go to spit in nature's face!" Deadscream said. "Something is coming, Magnus, something that threatens everything on a fundamental level, and I'm the wrench in the works!"

She twirled her swords around and leapt at Ultra Magnus slashing her blades at his head-only to have them pass right through his body. A hologram! She spun around and saw Magnus pointing his ion rifle at her.

"If you refuse to yield, then you give me no choice but to take you down!" Ultra Magnus opened fire with a volley of ion blasts. Deadscream hissed and flipped around his blasts, making her way towards him. She couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to kill her.

"Better warriors than you have tried, Magnus, and their remains provide a testament to their pitiful attempt to achieve the impossible-killing me!" Deadscream cut his gun in half before thrusting her other sword forward, he grabbed her arm and twisted it, throwing her to the ground in an attempt to subdue her through his superior strength and weight. She planted her feet on the ground and, to his surprise, heaved her larger body over her back, slamming him into the ground. Deadscream tried to run him through, but a hard punch to the face knocked her off him and he got up.

She rolled back to her feet and threw her leg up. When he used his arms to block her kick, she shifted her right arm into a neutron cannon and fired at his leg. Ultra Magnus grunted as the energy beam blew into his knee, almost shattering the thick armor there, and she used his pain to leap up and kick him in the side of the head. Deadscream grinned and walked over to him, sword in hand.

"Nothing personal, you understand. You're just an obstacle between me and him…one that needs to be removed!"

Ultra Magnus waited for her to lift her sword to cut him down before tossing something at her. "So be it."

It was a concussion bomb, and Deadscream realized too late what it was before it detonated. A wave of pure, concussive force blew them apart, blasting Deadscream to some other part of the room and Ultra Magnus in the other direction. It strong enough to knock even Ultra Magnus unconscious for a minute before coming to. He groaned from the aching all over his body, pushing himself up as he tried to ignore the dull ringing in his head. Some of the scholars who were hiding during the battle helped him to his feet. He waited for his head to be on straight before looking over at Deadscream, who was just as disoriented as he was, yet only semi-conscious. Which shouldn't be possible.

"By the primal wellspring. That bomb had enough power to take out a Dibison hopped up on nucleon grade energon, and she's still conscious? Looks like the horror stories about her weren't completely farfetched." Ultra Magnus muttered. "At least she out for the count. I wasn't in the mood for a prolonged struggle. Something is very wrong here."

"Thank you for your help, Ultra Magnus." The head scholar, Pontus, said gratefully. His long emerald robes swished about his thin legs as he bowed his head to Magnus. "She came out of nowhere shooting and killing without any provocation at all. I feared that she would've slaughtered us all before help arrived."

"You're lucky I was in the starzone then. I'll send a cleanup crew to fix this mess and cremate the bodies." He offered, but Pontus waved him off.

"That is unnecessary, sir. We can handle things here. Just take her as far away from here as possible."

"That I can definitely do." Ultra Magnus nodded.

After bidding farewell to the scholars, Ultra Magnus transported Deadscream to the Steelhaven and quickly left the station and went into fold space. Once the ship was gone, Pontus went over to his desk and punched in a private code to a channel exclusive to his business partner. Seconds later, a dark, bestial face appeared on the screen-it was Kopesh!

"Speak." He commanded.

"The facility is clear. Both Autobot and psychopath have departed." Pontus said.

"The loadstone?"

"Was no detected." Pontus assured Kopesh. "Magnus was more preoccupied with apprehending the Seeker."

"Good." Kopesh nodded. "Continue preparations for the Expansion. And make sure that you don't have any more unwanted guests."

XXXXXX

 _They were twins; siblings born from a split Spark. Unlike twins born to organic couples, cybertronian siblings rarely had similar appearances unless they were clones (which weren't introduced until later in the Great War with the Duobots). Twins were born either before or during their introduction to sentio metallico, but they were largely different from each other save for the subtle bond they share. This was not the case with cold constructed bots._

 _Deadscream heard about it-an alternative method of reproduction coined by Nova Prime by using the energies produced by two existing Sparks to create a new one. The specific details were obscure even to the senate that invented the process, but all she cared about was that she was one such bot. She was once a single Spark frozen in a photonic crystal, but had split mere seconds before being introduced to a protoform. From this division came Starscream, and from the first moment she could properly memorize what she saw, she knew she hated her brother the minute she set eyes upon him._

 _They were born Seekers, but Deadscream detected weakness from Starscream. The mech had no spine, he couldn't even take her punches, and he always skulked in the shadows planning and scheming like those filthy politicians in Iacon instead of flying amongst the clouds like her. The other Seekers always grouped them together, and she hated it. They had nothing in common other than body frames, and even then Deadscream vowed to either reformat her body or force Starscream to take a different form. She didn't care either way so long as they were different. But her leader didn't see it that way._

" _You must take pride in your appearance, Deadscream. It is nothing to be ashamed of, for we are forged in the same shape at our founder, Mother Azimuth."_

 _These were the words of Typhon, the third commander of the Seekers after Raksha, Azimuth's successor. He was a mech that stories of powerful and gleaming knights were based off of. Tall and broad shouldered with a mixture of ivory and gray and looked like one of the Knights of Prima come to life. No, Deadscream didn't have a crush on him or anything stupid like that, but he was her hero. He was the pride and joy of the Seekers, a living symbol of their order._

 _Deadscream knew Typhon was everything Starscream wanted to be but couldn't. At that time, there wasn't even a thought about who would be his successor. Peace reigned in the Cybertronian commonwealth, and the Seekers still maintained their stance as independent explorers, scouts and part of the planet's aerospace corps. They were the kings and queens of the skies, and Typhon constantly told his people that they should be proud to have their wings. They should be proud to fly, to have everyone with wheels look up to them. It didn't matter if most of them looked the same; it just made them a more solid faction. Brothers and sisters, the descendants of Azimuth._

 _Then he died. Or rather he was murdered. Someone had infested his drinks with microscopic scraplets and he was eaten alive at a pace so slow that he didn't even realize it until it was too late. Of course no one could identify who killed him, but Deadscream knew immediately who did it. And her wrath was legendary._

" _YOU BASTARD!"_

 _Deadscream's roar was like that of a Pneuma-lion, and her punch felt like getting hit dead center by a Dibison to Starscream as he was sent crashing to the floor on his back. She stood over him, red eyes flashing dangerously with fury. He tried to get back up, but she planted a foot on his chest to hold him down._

" _Did you think I wouldn't find out? That I wouldn't learn what you did?" She growled._

 _Starscream foolishly tried to play coy. "I have no idea what you're talking about dear sister-urk!" He grunted when she grinded her sharp heel into his chest plate._

" _Don't play games with me, boy. I know you had Menolith plant those scraplets into Typhon's energon. The dimwit confessed it himself."_

 _Starscream looked up at her in shock. "H-how-?"_

" _You'll find that not everyone has an enormous amount of pain tolerance like me." Deadscream held up a red hot combat knife to his face and slowly slid the blade down his cheek, making him whimper. "Wanna see how much you can take?"_

" _W-wait, wait, don't you want to know why I did it?" He asked._

" _No, because I know your reasons. You're just another one of those unimportant, lame ass schmucks who think that just because they can shoot a gun they can take control. But you're wrong. You're very predictable, Starscream. Everyone knows that you hated Typhon with a passion, but no one accused you because they didn't think you had the spine. But you did have one…your main problem is that you didn't think it through all the way." She stabbed the knife into his chest, making sure to only graze his Spark core. She wanted to make it hurt._

" _You think you know the game, you think that power will just fall into your hands and that everyone will just accept your leadership, but the fact that you don't even consider the possibilities shows that you're no player. You're just a scrub trying to ice skate uphill." She closed her eyes and relished his agonized whimpers, subtly twisting the knife in his chest to make his wound warp and burn. "I've always hated you, Starscream, but now you've just pissed me off in a way that's gonna bite you in the aft for a long time. Oh, but you'll learn. You'll learn definitely learn that wisdom comes from pain…and I intend to make you, brother, very, very wise."_

 _Deadscream made sure to make Starscream's life a living hell. She didn't tell the others about his crime; she wanted the pleasure of torturing him for herself. Though she supposed that to the other Seekers she was being needlessly cruel, but she didn't care what they thought about her. What mattered was that they fell in line and knew who the leader was. She, Deadscream, was the one who inherited Typhon's vision. If the Seekers fell into Starscream's hands, then he'd probably be cowed into submission by those pipe pushers in Iacon, lose the independence that made the Seekers what they were. And she couldn't allow that to happen._

 _Looking back on it, Deadscream figured that she was a bit unhinged over the years. Paranoia, temper tantrums and a sociopathic personality could make a girl lose her mind. She had no friends, only followers, and she definitely took no lovers (that fling with Jetfire notwithstanding. Poor mech flew as far as the sky went after just a few months of going steady. She had that effect on people). Everyone feared her, but Deadscream knew well enough that too much fear could lead to anger, and that anger would lead to her being stripped of her position._

 _A true tyrant would know just the right amount of fear to instill in his subjects to keep them in line and how to use it to motivate them. Deadscream didn't fashion herself a female Galvatron, but she'd be willing to say that in a few years time, if that damn Uprising hadn't occurred, then she would've given that old fossil a run for his money. But the biggest mistake Deadscream made in her tenure as Seeker commander was thinking that her position was set in stone. And thinking that she wouldn't push Starscream to do the unthinkable._

 _Alas, this hadn't crossed her mind even as Starscream stabbed her in the chest and killed her._

XXXXXX

There were many maximum security prisons in Autobot territory, but few were as well secured and well known as Garrus-9. Seen as the Autobot version of the Grindcore prison camp, Garrus-9 has a reputation for being built like a fortress as well as being near impossible to escape from or break into. The planet it was located on was the second from its sun, meaning it was dry, desolate and arid. The prison was built out in the open, sitting in the middle of a flat, uneven plain with very few hiding places to use.

The people put into Garrus-9 were high profile Decepticons who've made a name for themselves, but there were some Autobots who broke their creed doing some rather…amoral things in the name of victory. Inmates who were seen as highly dangerous, too dangerous to be physically imprisoned or retrained. They were placed on the third level, where the Spark extraction/containment ward was located. There the Sparks or over a thousand criminals sat in containment fields, placed in a state of limbo while their bodies sat lifeless in stasis lock.

Warden, a former Primal Vanguard member and decorated Autobot veteran, was the lord of Garrus-9. He and he along knew all of its secrets, who and what the prison held. He was a massive mech on par with Ultra Magnus in terms of size, but marginally outclassed him in bulk. He felt no fear at being surrounded by murderers, smugglers, offenders, and cutthroats, and if he did, he managed it well. As expected of an Autobot who personally fought in the Quintesson wars.

An odd habit he developed in his years of managing the penitentiary was looking at the Sparks contained on the third level. He would stand there scrutinizing the Sparks of some of the worst bots out there, marveling at how a bunch of small balls of energy could have such malicious personalities. To think that he actually knew some of these bots from their protoform years really made him think how things change when the innocent are introduced into this hellish universe. But lately, he's been studying the Spark of his newest addition-Deadscream.

'I can see why she's as crazy as they say with a Spark like that.' Warden thought as he looked at the oddly colored Spark sitting next to the Decepticon serial killer Killjoy. 'Is that even normal?'

Deadscream's Spark stood out from the rest. Whereas the rest of the Sparks in the area were bright blue and pulsated faintly like hearts, Deadscream was larger than normal, bright green like a giant emerald and pulsated like ball lightning in an ion storm. Even her Spark was violent and Warden wondered if she was either a point-one percenter like him and Prime…or if she was something else entirely. One couldn't be sure where Cybertronians were involved.

Warden frowned and left the containment level, taking the elevator lift to the fourth level deep underground, where the prisoner rehabilitation center was. This was a rarely visited part of the prison for him. Here were prisoners that were afflicted with strange ailments, sicknesses, mental illnesses and physical changes that had to be fixed to the best of their abilities in order to humanely imprison the bots in question. Right now, the Technobots and Autobot scientist Jetfire were hard at work with their newest guests-the Chimeracons.

"Warden, good morning!" Jetfire greeted him upon his entry. "What brings you down to rehab?"

"Progress report, Jetfire. I want to know how soon I can expect to have these six stripped to their Sparks and firmly under lock and key in the brig." Warden said, crossing his massive arms.

"Well I wouldn't get my hopes up on a speedy operation. We're dealing with ancient technology here, possibly Golden Age-era. Before we can undo, we first need to understand." Jetfire said, bringing up a schematic of the six mechs and their combined form, Monstructor. "These six individuals-Scowl, Slug, Wildfly, Bristleback, Icepick, and Birdbrain-weren't born combiners. They were tampered with at the sub-molecular level, their bodies and minds forcefully combined into the savage gestalt, Monstructor. We're looking at arguably history's first combiner."

"We already have a gestalt of our own, one that doesn't go insane upon combining." Warden replied. "And from what Elita-1 told me, Monstructor isn't all that advanced either."

"It's not how advanced he is that's curious, it's the fact that six mechs who show no signs of having the combiner gene were able to combine in the first place and are still alive. Shockwave's been trying for ages to get this result before he learned about the gene." Scattershot said. "Can you imagine if the Cons got their hands on these guys? They'd be able to make gestalts out of regular soldiers, gene or no gene."

"Except Monstructor is just a prototype as far as anyone else is concerned." Lightspeed added.

"Be as it may, I'd still feel better if we just extracted their Sparks and separated them."

"Warden, my remit at G-9 is to reform rather than incarcerate. These mechs are still bonded mentally even when not combined, and removing Sparks from anyone one of them could have dire consequences." Jetfire said. He glanced over at the six mechs sitting in front of him. "We've tried to break their shared link, but everything we've tried has been met with an unprecedented degree of resistance. Whatever technology put them together can't be easily undone."

"Which means what exactly?" Warden asked.

"That we've still got a long way to go. You'll get them only when we've exhausted every other course of action." Seeing Warden's glare, Jetfire sighed and shrugged. "I'm sorry, but that's how I do things."

"If the Decepticons get wind of a rogue gestalt, we'll have a possible disaster on our hands." Warden grunted. "I hope you realize that."

"Why do you think we're doing this here?" He replied coolly. "You do your job, I'll do mine."

XXXXXX

 _Near death experiences were few and far between, especially where the person having the experience is wounded to the point of actually dying. To them, death is like a dream, it's surreal, it's strange and it's something you'll never forget. Humans, Abraxans, Nebulans, they all had their fair share of near death experiences, and each time something like that happened, it led to the person having been placed in their own version of the afterlife. It's hard to describe a dream, or something close to it._

 _Cybertronians were no exception; death was a stranger to them, but they were welcomed in his arms all the same. For Deadscream, who actually died, dying was indeed like swimming through a dream. First there was darkness, then came the light and she experienced a surreal ethereal experience that few could really put into words. For that single second, she realized that there really was an afterspark._

 _She had no idea how long she was dead. It could've been deca-cycles, stellar cycles since then, but it felt like only a few minutes passed in her little dreamscape. But it all came falling apart when she felt herself get dragged out of the afterspark, kicking and screaming. It was a disorienting flash of bright colors and her body feeling like it was being pulled under the ocean. She felt her essence being restrained and constricted, squeezed into a tight space and pulled out of her dream into the waking world._

 _Deadscream would later realize that this was her experiencing her Spark being pulled back from the aether into her body, as she woke up in a chamber screaming like a dying star._

XXXXXX

"If this doesn't get me higher up in the army, then I don't know what will short of slaying Ultra Magnus." Banzaitron said.

The bridge of his ship, the Acheron, was dark save for the lights coming from the computers and external monitors. It was a bit hard to operate in a dark environment, but Banzaitron felt at home in the dark, and it taught his soldiers to better operate in darkness without infrared vision. And it was a nice prelude to the storm that was about to occur in a few minutes.

"Ghost shield status?"

"Output range is within harmonic tolerance, Banzaitron. We remain undetected."

"Right." He nodded. His finger tapped his folded arms impatiently. The lull before a massive battle always got him anxious. "Shift rotation at the facility is two kliks. We'll hit them on the shuffle."

"Understood." Axer, his on the side partner/bounty hunter, nodded. "You ready for this, Banzaitron? This isn't some clandestine silencing operation. We'll be facing off against some heavy resistance."

"I've never been surer of anything in my entire life." Banzaitron said, running a finer along the length of his sword. "If Doubledealer's right, then those people have a gestalt in their custody…and I want them for my secret service!"

Combiners were a wild card in warfare, a living WMD capable of many things. It gave the Decepticons a huge advantage in the middle stages of the War for Cybertron before the Autobots stole their data. There were even rumors of the Minicons jumping on the bandwagon. With gestalts like Devastator being a part of the larger army, Banzaitron thought it'd be nice to have one for his secrecy service unit-that'd really have possible turncoats thinking twice about defecting!

"It's time." Axer said.

"Alright," Banzaitron sheathed his sword and gave the order to commence the attack. "Then let the mayhem begin!"

On his command, the battle cruisers abandoned their stealth shielding and approached the planet Dobash like a hellish rain of death and chaos. Once they were on the very edges of the planet's orbit, the cruisers released multiple squadrons of Decepticon flyers and fighter craft which descended upon the planet like a swarm of angry insects. The sky was dark with Cons in their aerial alt modes and ground-based bots piloting orbital assault ships that were just as fast as a Seeker jet.

This assault was unexpected for the Autobots groundside and they were completely caught off guard by the sudden appearance and onslaught of Decepticons currently attacking Garrus-9 in full force. Just as they planned, they had the initiative and were going to make good on their plan to cause as much damage before the Autobots could muster up a counterattack.

XXXXXX

Inside the prison, the Autobots were scrambling to lay down some cover while their artillery units took town the larger targets peppering the prison with heavy missile and rocket fire. Warden was trying to figure out what the hell was going on as he directed the Autobots to their defensive stations.

"There were just there! Like, out of nowhere!" Kick-Off yelled, almost falling off his seat as another explosion rattled the prison. "And they knew exactly where to hit us!"

"Quick, Kick-Off, activate the gun turrets and mobilize crisis units or this'll be over before it's started!" Warden yelled.

Like magic, ground units, automated turrets, hidden missile pods and cloaked ion cannons appeared from every nook and cranny to open fire on the attacking aerial units. Though they expected this level of resistance, the Decepticons were still caught by surprise by the amount of firepower the prison was packing. Orbital carriers that strayed too close were shot down and crashed to earth in fiery balls of metal and death. Flyers either took out the turrets or were shot down by them, while the ground was littered with explosions from variable sources. It was chaos across the board as the body count reached two digits within minutes.

Amidst the fighting, a lone drop capsule was fired from the capital ship in orbit and fell to the planet, heading directly towards the prison. The capsule unfolded to reveal four claws as it crashed into the building, destroying a particle cannon manned by a poor Autobot who was killed by the impact. The drills on the tips of the claws bore into the thick armored walls and blew a hole into the wall, allowing the occupants to storm the interior.

It was a risky move, breaking into the most heavily guarded section of the prison, but the mechs running this part of the operation weren't the least bit concerned with the opposition they were facing. This kind of warfare they were highly skilled in.

"Combaticons!" Onslaught bellow, blasting apart three Autobots with his pulse cannons. "Move in! Mutilate, maul or massacre anything between you and the target!"

"You don't have to tell us twice, Onslaught!" Brawl laughed, twisting the head off an Autobot cadet with his bare hands. "We aim to maim!"

XXXXXX

In the situation room, Warden listened to the cries of his soldiers as they tried to fight off the invading Cons. The opening assault was devastating enough, but the Cons outside weren't making an attempt to penetrate the prison's exterior wall with their numbers. He was confused about this but realized that they only meant for a strike team to infiltrate the facility, one that's skilled in siege operations. The Combaticons (sans Swindle) were cutting a path of carnage through the prison toward the containment level and it didn't take a Perceptor to know what they were here for.

" _We're being overrun here!"_

"… _main grid is down auxiliary defense systems are non-responsive…"_

"… _it's turning into a fragging slaughter…"_

"… _stronghold has been breached, we have isolation unit penetration…"_

"This is Warden," He boomed. "Send all tactical response units in sub-light transit distance of Garrus-9. We are under attack! Main cargo in jeopardy!"

He heard the dying cries of his men, along with the chaotic symphony of death as his prison broke down around him. There wasn't a time to wait if the isolation ward was overrun and breached. A lot of dangerous criminals were down there and if they were returned to their bodies….Warden didn't even want to think about it. He needed something to hold the Cons off until help arrived-or someone.

"Computer, give me an analysis of current inmates. Mani category: non-aligned. Sub category: threat level-9."

It only took a second for the computer to show him the results. **"One result found"."** And it brought up a single profile.

Deadscream.

XXXXXX

 _Deadscream didn't know how he did it. How he was able to bring her back. It was a secret that people both organic and mechanical had searched for hundreds of thousands of years, almost as much as the secret to immortality. At that moment, she didn't care to ask him. All she was concerned about was the pain of her resurrection. That searing agony that tore at her Spark as it was ripped from the Allspark. It was maddening, even for her._

" _How are you feeling, Deadscream?" He asked in that sickeningly sweet tone of his. It was like he was discussing the weather with him._

" _Do you feel disorientated? A little woozy? Has your optics regained functionality?"_

" _SHUT UP!"_

 _Deadscream tried to lunge at him from her berth, teeth bared to rip out his throat, but the minute her legs touched the floor, she collapsed and started shaking uncontrollably. He stood over her, studying her seizures like one does a curious animal specimen._

" _You're half delirious and your Spark has yet to fully acclimate to that walking can you call a body. Really, you should've taken better care of yourself before your death, Deadscream."_

" _W-What did-" She tried to ask but she couldn't get the words out._

" _What did I do? I did what others had dreamed of doing-I cheated death." His onyx black face smiled, which looked like a mild snarl with that snout of his. "I did what not even the great Jhiaxus had done, bring a person back to life. And it was all thanks to you."_

 _Deadscream looked at her hands. They were the same battle scarred claws that was stained with the energon of thousands of cybertronians she had killed in the line of duty. She glanced at her reflection in a sheet of metal and saw how haggard she looked. Her chest plate was open, revealing her glowing enlarged emerald Spark, still visible through the hole Starscream carved into her. Her face, her hands, her armor, she looked like a ghoul instead of a Seeker. What did he do to her?_

" _In case you're wondering, I thought it better to place your Spark back into your body instead of a fresh protoform mold. Not as efficient, but I wasn't going to risk you losing your memories in the deep coding process." He crossed his arms and walked around her. "You were a glorious test subject, Deadscream. This wouldn't have been possible without your point one percenter Spark. No one else could've been strong enough to survive the process. So I must thank you from the deepest part of my Spark."_

 _He gathered up the last of his tools and walked for the door, leaving her shivering on the floor. "Oh, and there may be a high chance that you'll just burn out from sensory overload, but let's face it. You're no stranger to death at this stage. Consider it as akin to returning home. Goodbye dear Deadscream and may Mortilus guide you back to the Allspark."_

 _Deadscream wanted to snap at him, insult his intelligence and creed, leap up and gore his chest open. But all she could manage was a pitiful whimper as she lied there in a huddle ball of scarred, misshapen metal and neural circuitry. She felt cold. She felt weak. And she hated being weak._

XXXXXX

Death was a good friend of Deadscream, and yet she could not shake his hand. They were macabre lovers and yet they could not embrace. Aside from Starscream running her through, she couldn't die. She lost count of how many situations where she should've been sent to the Allspark; mutilations, decapitations, incinerations, vaporizations, the list goes on and one. The closest she ever got to even limbo was being in a front row seat to a supernova that completely destroyed her body. And yet her Spark survived and her body regenerated around it, though the radiation had disrupted her neural and sensory circuits for a long time. Even now she couldn't tell if she fully recovered from that.

It was always the same; she would float in limbo for a while before being dragged back to the living world kicking and screaming. It became so common that she was just sick of it now. She couldn't even be angry anymore.

Spark extraction was certainly a different experience and not an unwelcome one either. For the first time in over a million stellar cycles, she felt…at peace. Here, existing as little more as a ball of energy, aware but suspended in blissful desensitized non-space, the pain and rage of her life was reduced to phantom aches. A place where her immortality couldn't touch her.

Then there was a sudden tug on her consciousness and Deadscream slowly woke up in the real word as her systems rebooted upon the reintegration of her Spark to her body. Optical sensors flashed online and she felt little stings in her shoulders and hips where her limbs were being reattached. She scowled-she was at peace but life wasn't done with her yet it seemed.

"Welcome back, Deadscream. Do you know where you are?" Warden asked.

"I do." Deadscream said, staring straight into his eyes. "I'm in hell, or at least, your little corner of it, you wasted hunk of metal."

"Impressive." He said, ignoring her insult. "Reintegration normally results in severe disorientation. You really are a piece of work."

"Solus Prime herself named me her greatest creation." She remarked with a sneer. "What do you want?"

"Brass tacks, eh? Okay. We're under attack. Decepticons. Some of their biggest and baddest. I need to trump that, buy some time." Warden leaned down to stare right back at her. "Which is where you come in."

"And why the frag should I give a damn about what happens to you or this place?" she growled. "I didn't care about you Autobots before the Uprising and I don't care about you now!"

"One word…Kopesh." Warden saw the slight narrowing of her eyes and knew he had her.

"You've got my attention."

"According to Omega Supreme, our six newest residents owe their intertwined existence to Nova Prime's once and former theoretical strategist. They're the glittering prize at the business end of all this. Given your hunt for one of Jhiaxus's former students, I figured you might be of a mind to make an intervention."

Deadscream grinned. "Yes."

"One more thing. If you turn on anyone without a Decepticon insignia, if you try and run," He held up a remote. "I'll apply synchronized G-forces that'll crush your Spark casing. Clear?"

"Clear." She nodded. "But you must be a foot if you think you can kill me. Why do you think they call me the immortal?"

XXXXXX

The battle in the isolation ward was quickly turning into a bloodbath. The Combaticons, true to their word, had slaughtered the unprepared Autobots in their way as they carved a path of carnage to the isolation ward, with Onslaught taking point. This didn't bode well for Jetfire and the Technobots, who were the only ones there aside from the Chimeracons to keep them out. As Fortress Maximus locked down the sector, Jetfire barricaded the door and waited for the Cons to reach them. Which didn't take very long as Onslaught and Brawl were already burning through the reinforced door and were firing ion blasts into the chamber.

"We're not going to chase them off!" Jetfire grunted as he fired back at them with his particle cannon, his battle mask covering her face. He hissed as a pulse blast hit his shoulder and returned fire at Vortex's visible face through the hole through the wall. "They're going to burn through that door and once they do, it's over for us!"

"Then we don't have any choice." Scattershot scowled. "Afterburner, initiate the termination sequence!"

Afterburner looked at him with no small amount of surprise. "What? But what about-"

"Afterburner!" Lightspeed shouted. "Elita-1 was clear; the subjects cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands. Even if it means we get killed in the process. No amount of information is worth the Cons getting a beast like that on their side."

A loud explosion rattled the room as Brawl created a new door right next to the old one and were already making their way into the ward. Jetfire and Nosecone increased their efforts to hold them back while Afterburner and Scattershot worked at blindingly fast speeds that'd make even Perceptor dizzy.

"Preparing to cross-connect now. The feedback will fry their neural pathways." Scattershot said, activating the failsafe procedure. "Standby-"

Scattershot was cut off as the console blew up in his face, blowing him and Afterburner back. The attack came from Onslaught's two shoulder cannons, which were starting to overheat from the continuous use. Jetfire cursed and fired his cannon on him, but another pulse blast from Brawl made him take cover.

"We're in, Onslaught." Vortex said. Onslaught nodded.

"Combaticons," he said. "Secure the targets and move in for the kill."

"Heh. It's much more satisfying watching them beg for mercy. Makes the experience sweeter when they squirm in their last moments." Vortex laughed and took a step forward before noticing a pain in his chest. He looked down and saw a sharp blade sticking out of his chest. "Ow."

He fell to the floor, revealing Deadscream with her bayonets out. She grinned and leapt over him, giving a terrifying shriek as she charged at the other Combaticons.

"Oh no," Blast Off groaned. "Not her!"

"Strutless fool! She's nothing!" Onslaught growled and collapsed into his heavily armored double-cannon tank mode. "Just more fodder for the slaughterhouse!"

Onslaught fired his twin ion cannons at Deadscream, thinking she'd be too slow to dodge at this distance. He was sadly wrong as she ducked under the beams (letting them hit a bit too close to Raz and the others) before boosting toward Brawl.

"I'll tell you what I told all the others. If you're between me and his handiwork, you're gone," Deadscream transformed and fired two missiles from her wings. Brawl's heavy armor was the only thing that kept those missiles from being a kill shot as they hit his chest. "Just gone!"

She dodged another blast from Onslaught and charged at him. He switched back to robot mode and threw a punch at her face, catching her in the jaw. He saw her jaw get dislocated, but she simply put some weight on her right leg and swung around, digging her spiked knuckles into his face and pushed him back. They traded heavy blows, neither backing down from the other's strong punches, and it became clear that Deadscream was not going down without taking at least three of them with her.

"Frag this!" Blast Off said and ran over to the Chimeracons. "It's high time we got what we came for and got the frag out of here. Brawl, get Vortex over here, now! Onslaught, let's bounce!"

Jetfire pulled Lightspeed out of some rubble and saw Onslaught kick Deadscream away and regroup with the Combaticons who were standing with the prisoners. "No! Stop him before-"

Onslaught pressed his Decepti-brand and his team and the Chimeracons were encased in a bright glow as they initiated an orbital jump. Warden burst into the room and fired his neutron cannon at them. "Freeze!"

"Please," Onslaught grinned. "Does that ever work?"

Warden pulled the trigger, but the beam passed through Onslaught's head as they vanished with the Chimeracons. He cursed and ran over to Jetfire to help him up.

"Someone needs to intercept them. They're ship must still be close by to perform an orbital jump like that." Jetfire said.

"Who?" Warden asked.

"Me." Deadscream marched towards them, sheathing her blades. Warden frowned.

"You? The only place you're going is back to your alcove in F-wing." He huffed.

"I'm going after them. It's that or you kill me no, I come back and devour you from the T-cog for your brain module and be on my merry way." She said with a dangerous edge in her voice. "I can find them. I can stop this. It's what I do. Don't ask me how or why, but I know Kopesh had a hand in this. He and the rest of Jhiaxus' "experiments"…even me, we're linked."

Jetfire looked at her curiously before asking, "Deadscream, what is it between you and him? Help us understand."

"Jetfire…" Warden warned, but she waved his concerns away.

"It's okay. I don't think she'll harm me."

Deadscream smirked with her abnormally slitted mouth. "Here's a story for you kiddies. You ever hear about how Starscream got a lucky shot in and killed me? That's true. I really did die, and I really did pass on. But somehow I was brought back, and the first memory of my new life was…pain."

She placed a hand on her chest, remembering with vivid detail the searing pain in her Spark upon awakening to her new life. "Kopesh…was one of Jhiaxus' old disciples, along with Shockwave. However while Shockwave pursued scientific goals, Kopesh sought out the metaphysical and arcane. Don't ask for the specifics, but he's been researching what he calls the essence of life itself, an antithesis to dark matter-quintessence. He applied these teachings to his work, believing he could even cheat death with this new form of energy." Deadscream motioned to herself. "And lo and behold, here is his first success in that endeavor-me."

"That's insane," Jetfire whispered. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he was curious. Because he could!" She hissed. "I was nothing more than a prototype and as such, he tossed me aside without a second thought once he knew I was a success. He refined his craft over the cycles. He did it two more times, first with Bludgeon's cronies, then with that annoying green Autobot femme, Moon-something. He left me alone to deal with my ravaged body still recovering from being dead for so long, a half blind cripple raised from the dead and hindered by a maddening maelstrom of contradictory sensory input."

"And that's not even the worst of it," Deadscream laughed. "I have a little side-effect of him tampering with my point one percenter Spark. I cannot die. Any damage I take heals-from beheading to dismemberment to melting; I have even survived a supernova. I can't die. And I'll only come back stronger than ever." Her teeth gnashed together, creating sparks. "That's why I simply can't rest until everything he's touched is wiped clean."

"Deadscream stop." Warden ordered. He held up the remote. "This kind of thing does happen. Not on my watch."

He made to press the button, but Jetfire pushed his arm down. "Warden, let her go. I'll back up any story you want to concoct, but she might be our only chance at learning what's really going on."

The warden frowned. "Jetfire…"

"We are in no condition to make an immortal our enemy. We'll need every chance we can get to keep the situation from spiraling out of control." Jetfire said. He nodded at Deadscream, who gave a mocking grin at Warden before sprinting into the hallway.

"Hmph." He grunted and looked down at her. "You know something, Jetfire? If Kopesh is still alive somewhere, I almost feel sorry for him."

XXXXXX

Deadscream felt that immediate, familiar tug on her Spark and knew that something was happening. Even now, she could feel that something had changed in her absence-advanced. Kopesh was moving forward with his plan and he wasn't alone. But that didn't matter. He could employ an entire army to protect him and she'd still kill him in the most agonizing way possible.

His day of reckoning was close at hand!


	19. (Un)Broken

Chapter 18-(Un)Broken

Wheelie was no stranger to hardship. He spent a good portion of his early life ducking and dodging falling bombs and dropships in the midst of a battlefield, scavenging in the ruins of Uraya as Autobots and Decepticons tore the poor city apart. He was forged as a part of the last batch of Sparks ignited in a hot spot halfway through the War for Cybertron, many of whom became Autobots, but some had scattered to parts unknown after maturing from their protoforms stage, like Wheelie. He didn't know what a peaceful Cybertron looked like. To him, the shattered cities and mountains of robotic corpses were all he knew of Cybertron. To imagine a world that didn't look like a floating ball of scorched metal in the universe was unheard of to him.

He thought that becoming an Autobot would at least give him a better chance in his life, keep him safe and give him a home and friends to count on. What he got was a front row seat to the atrocities committed by his people, to people he would consider friends dying horribly in incredibly stupid ways, watching his beloved planet die a slow death. But the violence didn't affect his bravery or his drive to be an Autobot. If anything, it only increased his desire to become the best Autobot he could be, and he wanted to do more for them.

Of course, thanks to his small size and lack of useful or significant weapons, Wheelie couldn't just take up arms and run into battle. He was given a job more suited to his knowledge of the war torn terrain and his size-courier. To his surprise, being a courier put him on the frontlines more often than not, earning him some jealous glares from some of the more gung ho cadets who wanted a piece of the action. He would sometimes be at the spearhead of a big push, supplying Bots like Ultra Magnus and Kup with extra ammo or supplies to keep them fully stocked during long siege runs. He risked a lot to help his comrades; he risked everything on the field, more than any other young Autobot cadet his age aside from a chosen few-and no one noticed because he was small. His size was his best asset and his main disadvantage.

He never let it get him down, though, or hold him back. Wheelie had remained slightly optimistic and upbeat to a degree because he knew that one day he would get his chance. And he certainly did!

"Scrap! Navigational-systems are inoperative. Main engines and landing gear non-functional-I'm going down!" Wheelie grunted as his ship made a violent entry into the atmosphere of a distant green planet. His ship's landing gear and maneuvering gear were shot and he couldn't even use the computers. He was dead in the air. "Are there any Autobot units near my position? I'm in free fall and I need an assist! Is anyone reviving me? Anyone?!"

Well, at least his ship got a shot as well.

XXXXXX

"What a wonderful way to start a mission." Wheelie grumbled as he trudged through the shallow water onto the beach, pulling his convertor behind him like a little kid and his red wagon. Far from the beach, his damaged ship slowly sank beneath the waves. "At least I didn't have anything valuable, haha…"

His fake laughter died out pathetically as he sat on the beach and thought of his situation. Trapped on an unknown planet with no way to contact home and only the scraps of his ship-a worst case scenario for any space traveler. It could only happen to him.

It was his first major solo OP. his first chance to show what he could do on his own away from the figurative and literal giants on the Autobot force. Wheelie was chosen to scout for habitable worlds the Autobots could use for relay posts and energon plants, preferably worlds that weren't already taken by intelligent or developing species. There were only so many scouts in reserve and most of them were either on missions or weren't experienced enough for such a mission, and they needed all the bots they could take. And Wheelie saw this as a great way to put his skills to good use.

But his enthusiasm died down when his scout ship got hit by a radiation belt from a solar flare that wiped out his navigational interface. He had no control and was already in a death spiral, so he steered the ship to fall towards a nearby planet and hoped for the best. At least he crashed into water, not much of a substitute for solid ground, but at least he made it alive.

Once he stopped wallowing in self-pity, he got to work on making a makeshift shelter from what he could salvage from his ship. He made shelter inside a little cove inside one of the cliffs that had a perfect view of the beach. By the time he was done, it was sundown and the beach was almost pitch black.

'Lost and alone with nothing but a convertor and some spotlights to help me see at night.' Wheelie thought as he sat on the edge of his shelter, looking down at the beach. 'At least the scenery is nice.'

The first two nights of his stay on this mysterious planet quickly showed that the beach came alive at night. He would walked along the shore looking at the tiny crustaceans that crawled over his feet, waddling a little further from shore to look at the oddly formed fish that would swim away from him.

"At least this planet can support life. No intelligent residents so far, which makes this world good for occupation." Wheelie muttered. It was strange, talking to himself, but he was getting sick of the silence. "I better see if I'm getting a signal-"

Wheelie screamed as he felt something grab his leg underwater. He was pulled beneath the surface as he was yanked off balance and saw a long tentacle wrapped around his leg. He almost panicked, but remembered his training and shifted his right hand into a trylithium saw and began hacking away at the tentacle dragging him into deeper waters. His saw cut through its flesh with great ease and Wheelie managed to cut himself away before the large octopus-like creature could grab for him again.

"Scrap!" Wheelie breathed as he ran back to shore, glancing behind him to see the large sea creature slinking back beneath the waves. Judging from its size, it had to have been almost as large as his scout ship. "No more deep sea incursions for me."

After that lovely encounter with a native, Wheelie got to work on building a long range radio to get a distress signal out into space. To his good fortune, it worked, but the question of whether it could get him help was another one entirely.

"Is anyone receiving me?" Wheelie asked into the radio. The transmission dish hummed depressingly beside him as he tried to send another message to the distant stars. "This is Autobot courier Wheelie, calling for immediate assistance. My ship is gone and I'm stranded on a planet in Sector LV14. Please, if you hear this message…"

He trailed off with a depressed sigh. It was no use. Three days and no response? Knowing his luck the transmission barely got past the stratosphere. Frowning, he sat up against the wall and put his head in his knees, hoping that someone could help him from this painful solitude. He didn't realize how agonizing being by yourself could be until you were actually in such a situation.

It was only by chance that he looked up just in time to see something bright falling from the sky. For a minute he dismissed it as a comet falling from the sky, but then his radar monitor registered a blip. Wheelie stared at the screen for a long while before a large smile spread across his face. It was a ship! Hope was still alive after all!

XXXXXX

The next morning, Wheelie packed up what little gear he had on hand and left the beach to enter the dense forest behind him. This planet had two large continents, and both were heavily forested. After he tracked the trajectory of the ship's descent and began his long journey to where he figured it would land. Despite his optimism, he didn't know if the fallen star was a ship at all, but if it was, then he hoped they wouldn't leave him behind.

The forest was dense and full of life. Wheelie could hear sounds all around him and the trees seemed to be massive even by cybertronian standards. Adjusting the energon convertor to his back, Wheelie strolled through the foliage. Despite finding help being his primary objective, he still had a mission to complete. This world seemed to be very ideal for harboring cybertronian life and was decently abundant in natural resources.

'The perfect place to set up shop, if I ever get off this fragging rock.' Wheelie thought. 'If that falling star turns out to be a dud, maybe I can send a transmission from a higher altitude, like a mountain or some-'

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar that rattled the forest. Wheelie only had enough time to jump when he saw a golden furred beast come charging at him from the underbrush. It was larger than him, with short golden fur and large paws tipped with obscenely large claws, with a massive head sporting a wide jaw and a grinning maw of sharp teeth almost as long as Wheelie's arm.

Wheelie jumped back as the beast lunged at him, reaching for his slingshot. It missed its initial attack with its claws, but it turned its head and snatched up his left arm in its teeth, crunching down hard on his shoulder. Wheelie gave an agonized cry of pain as it shook him violently, trying to tear his arm off with its teeth alone. Wheelie desperately reached for something he could use to get free and wrapped his fingers around the handle of a combat knife on his waist.

"Let…go of me!" Wheelie screamed, stabbing the animal in its head multiple times. Of course, the beast's skull was very hard, so much so that not even the knife could pierce the bone deep enough for a fatal blow, but the pain of the knife slicing into its flesh was enough for it to back off. With one more yank, it tore off Wheelie's arm at the shoulder and ran off, blood leaking from its wounds profusely.

Wheelie fell to the ground, clutching the sparkling stump where his arm was torn off. It was a mostly clean tear, but it was excruciating and every move he made it even more painful. Clenching his teeth, he pushed himself to his feet and followed the blood trail where the beast fled to.

'I won't survive long with only one arm.' He thought. It was hard to think with the pain clouding his mind and he dampened his neural clamps as much as he could without completely going numb. He needed that arm to transform, and any wound he got in the wilderness was a death sentence. 'I wounded that thing. If I can find it, then maybe it still has my arm.'

He was fortunate the beast took a serious wound, because the blood trail was very helpful in following its path. Eventually, he came upon a small clearing by a lake where the blood stopped, but lying near the lake was his arm, slightly battered and covered in saliva.

Wheelie gave a sigh of relief. The beast must have tried to swallow his arm and choked on it, coughing it up. He hoped it died from metal shavings lodge in its throat.

It took him almost an hour to reattach his arm, welding the severed pistons together and making sure his fuel lines were properly connected to get full range of motion. It was a patch job that wasn't going to give him optimal health with his shoddy workmanship, but at least he could still feel his arm. He clenched his hand and rotated his shoulder, wincing a bit at the sting in his joint, and took a deep breath (he obviously didn't need to breath, but cybertronians had adopted a lot of customs and habits from organics they made contact with over the cycles). It was time to test if he could properly transform.

'Please don't let this suck.' Wheelie prayed and mentally commanded his T-cog to activate and he felt his body begin to change shape…

His screams of pain could be heard for miles.

XXXXXX

"This better be worth it." Wheelie grumbled angrily to himself as he walked across a grassy plain leading away from the dense forest he spent almost seven days traveling through. The sun hung high in the cloudless sky and Wheelie could feel the heat boring down on him like a gestalt's hand. He couldn't sweat or be dehydrated, but being exposed to such heat for so long could cause him to overheat; but he still needed to go on.

Wandering this planet's wilderness alone and still in pain from his self-patch job put Wheelie's mind in a dark place. Having his arm torn off and spat out while suffering intense pain reattaching it was bad enough, but it hurt every time he tried to transform thanks to the strain it put on his shoddily welded together circuits and joints. The reality of his situation followed by his constant agony put him in a downward spiral of loathing and doubt. He valued his optimism but there hasn't really been a reason to be upbeat about anything.

Wheelie saw his mission as something more than just an opportunity to broaden his horizons-he truly believed that anything he discovered out in space would have repercussions for Cybertron as a whole! New resources, tactical staging grounds, even possibly a new energy source to replace energon, anything was possible.

But this planet just turned out to be a dead end. He hadn't been able to focus about anything on this damn planet aside from one thing-survival. He stopped hoping for the impossible. Hope was dangerous on this world. Even the slenderest thread of hope can blind you to the here and now. Hope…can get you killed.

Wheelie was taken from his thoughts when his foot caught on something thin on the ground. Looking down, he saw that it was a thin strand of silk that was almost invisible to the naked eye. He frowned and tugged his foot to get it free-and a second later, a large arachnid-creature leapt out of the ground and lunged at him. The creature was almost as large as him, wrapped its long legs around him and brandishing its large fangs to bite him. He was just lucky that its fangs sank into his energon convertor and suffered a painful jolt from the device.

He unstrapped the convertor and pushed the spider off him, rolling away and drawing his blaster to aim at it. "You want some more?" He said in a threatening tone.

Wheelie grinned when he saw that the spider was skittering away thanks to its painful jolt, digging itself back underground in search of smaller, less threatening prey. He lowered his gun and relaxed, feeling a small bit of satisfaction that he scared it off before he went to retrieve his convertor. That was when he made a depressing realization.

There was a fang lodged in the convertor, torn off when the spider tried to bite Wheelie. The spider was hurt, not scared. It would've continued trying to maul him if it didn't lose its fang, and this knowledge, with his own sense of insignificance, sent Wheelie over the edge.

"Damn it all!" Wheelie yelled at the midday sun. He let his frustration take over and just flow out, taking it out on the rocks and dirt as he struck the earth with his staff over and over without a care for his already overheating systems. "What is the damn point? What do you want me to do? Put a damn target on my back and scream kill me?!"

His tantrum went on for a few more minutes before he tired himself out and fell to his knees. He wearily tended to his punctured convertor, which was thankfully still operational, but it would take time to fix. It would take another day to completely fix and another day after that to leave the plains.

He wondered what other predators were out there eager to turn him into scrap. He wondered how long could he keep going like this with no end in sight. How long could he survive? What if…what if there was nothing for him at the end of his journey? What will happen then?

XXXXXX

As he continued traveling through this untamed wilderness, Wheelie thought of his friends (or rather, comrades, as he knew none of them on a personal level) back on Cybertron. Did they even notice his absence? Did they label him as MIA or KIA? Did they even care?

'Of course they don't care.' A dark part of his mind ranted to him. 'Why should they care about a tiny little courier mech whose barely worth more than the dirt at the bottom of their feet? There are scouts like Bumblebee and Hubcap who do your job better than you do. They don't need you anymore.'

"No, no, don't think that Wheelie." He muttered. "You'll find a way back as long as you stay strong. The strong survive, and if I give up now, I'm better off as molten slag."

His travels had taken him from the verdant grassy plains into a barren, darkly colored wasteland of solidified magma, which soon gave way to flowing rivers of lava, runoff from an active volcano. Not the worst thing to come upon, but traversing a lava field was hard and dangerous. One wrong move and he'll be nothing but a scream in the wind.

Wheelie stood at the edge of a lava river at a loss at where to go. He was almost close to giving up when he saw a bridge sitting over the river. It was definitely not natural, not with such clean construction like that. Saving his questions for another time, Wheelie prepared himself for a less than comfortable drive.

"Here goes nothing." He breathed and spun his T-cog, allowing his body to reconfigure to vehicle mode. Almost immediately, Wheelie felt pain ripple through his body during the conversion process, not as bad as the first time he attempted this but it still hurt.

He breathed a sigh in relief after he was done changing and hooked his convertor to his rear bumper. He drove forward and instantly knew that his suffering wasn't over yet; dislocated servo-gears in motion spun and grinded against misaligned buffer plates at six revolutions per second. He had to think of annoying rhymes to keep his mind off the terrible pain and unholy screech coming from his right wheel.

It always went back to pain, no matter what? Life was funny like that, huh?

XXXXXX

Another day passed before Wheelie reached his destination. Following his coordinates, the ship fell in the vicinity of a large canyon, near a massive temple that was abandoned. The temple was made of stone and was already have eroded from the moisture of the forest it was in, overrun with vines and plants. Wheelie forced himself not to smile in relief when he reached the canyon, now no longer overheating, but covered in condensation from the humid air. Setting his convertor down, he climbed the small outcropping and peered over the side to see where the ship was…and he was sorely disappointed.

"A Decepticon ship?" Wheelie groaned. "Primus isn't done fragging with me, is he?"

He paused when he heard loud talking down below and looked down again to see two identical looking purple mechs with patches of lime green on their chests. Spectro and Spyglass, two thirds of the Reflector team Wheelie encountered in the past. Recon and espionage were their main duties, but it seemed they were in the same predicament as him. Taking a closer look, he noticed that they had an organic with them-a hostage.

Their prisoner was small, reaching only up to their waists. He was a male humanoid with dark purple fur on his body and a pair of extremely long rabbit ears on top of his head. He worse a thin space suit with a logo on left breast and was kicking and struggling in his tight bonds as the two mechs stood over him.

"I say kill him. He's no use to us." Spectro said.

"We don't know that. This brat's Amaran-they make the best tech and weapons for those GC slagheads." Spyglass said, glaring down at the trapped male. "And he probably knows where we are."

Spectro huffed, but knew his brother was right. He nudged the Amaran in the side with his foot. "Oi, Fleshy! Tell us where we are!"

The Amaran scowled and glared at him. Spectro growled and held the man up by his suit. "Answer the question and we won't grind your bones into dust!"

"I don't know where we are! You dolts attacked me before I could graph my position." The Amaran said.

"Fine, be that way." Spyglass said, snatching the Amaran from Spectro's grasp and pointed his blaster at his face. "We'll just torture the info from ya."

Wheelie thought on his options. Spectro and Spyglass were just low grade thugs in the lower Decepticon hierarchy, with nothing to offer and barely above him in terms of rank. But that ship of theirs was his ticket out of here, even if it was a bit banged up. All he needed was a distraction.

Peeking over the rock, Wheelie took out his slingshot and fired a piece of energon at the bonds holding the Amaran. The prisoner heard a sizzle behind him before he heard a soft pop and his clamps shattered.

"And I'm telling you they're my thermo-pliers-I get the first go!" Spectro yelled into his brother's face.

"Fine, whatever. But leave some for me, eh? This little brat looks like-" Spyglass saw something moving in the corner of his eye. "Hey…hey!"

The Amaran had escaped his bonds and was running away from the Cons at full sprint. Spyglass tried shooting at him, but Spectro stopped him. "Easy on the ammo, Spectro! We only have half a powerclip to share between us!"

"Right, yeah." Spectro holstered his gun and cracked his knuckles. "Bare hands it is, then."

Wheelie didn't even spare a thought for the Amaran in his haste to get off this planet. He hopped off the ledge and quickly ran down the slope to where the ship was. As he got closer, he saw that the damages on the ship were more severe than he thought. Frowning, Wheelie entered the ship through a hole in its portside and went to the pilot deck. Even a fool could see that the ship wasn't going anywhere, and the flight controls were completely trashed, with the windshield shattered and glass littering the floor.

"As if things couldn't get any worse. Figured those morons couldn't fly a ship-whoa!"

Wheelie jumped back when he saw a mech in the pilot's seat-it was Viewfinder, the third member of the Reflector group. Wheelie thought the mech was sleeping until he saw that there was a giant piece of glass sticking out of his chest, right in the middle. He was dead, and for a good while if the rust on his body was anything to go by. Viewfinder was the third component of their combined alt mode, but with him dead, Spectro and Spyglass could no longer form a proper alt mode.

"Must've died in the crash." Wheelie said. "Suppose I am lucky to have survived my crash. Maybe."

It was a bitter thought, but it matched his mood. He survived everything this god forsaken planet had thrown at him, but ended up losing sight of what was important in the process. Seeing Viewfinder there dead and rusting was a stark reminder of how death didn't care for faction or religion. He rubbed the Autobot symbol on his chest and looked at the Decepticon symbol cut in half by a shard of glass on Viewfinder's chest.

'These symbols used to mean something. It had to mean something. Otherwise…I may as well be dead.' Wheelie thought.

He was perfectly willing to sacrifice an innocent being to the Cons for a chance to escape. Such behavior was against what the Autobots stood for, and it made Wheelie sick and appalled at how heartless he had become as a result of his journey.

"I hope that guy didn't go too far. If he's still here, then chances are that he still has a workable ship that can get all of us out of here." Wheelie told himself.

Wheelie ran out of the ship and immediately noticed the tracks leading back out of the canyon and toward the temple grounds. Wheelie smiled, not only were the Cons terrible pilots, they also couldn't track a Turbofox if its tracks were right in front of them. He followed the tracks back the way he came, heading toward the temple, looking for any visible sign of the Amaran escapee. Hopefully the little guy wasn't hurt.

"Hya!"

A purple blur slammed into his back and almost threw him off balance. Wheelie rolled to his feet and faced his attacker, who turned out to be the Amaran he was looking for!

"You won't have me or my ship, you metallic meat grinder!" The Amaran screamed valiantly.

"Wait, hold up!" Wheelie yelled. He shouted when the Amaran fired a plasma beam from his rifle that almost took his head off. He ducked under another blast and drew his slingshot, shooting another piece of energon that knocked the rifle from his hands. He dashed forward and seized the Amaran by the back of his suit. "Now just hold on a second!"

"No! You may have me Decepticon, but you won't have my mate!" He screamed. The hysterical male gave a little yelp when Wheelie bonked him on the head.

"You see this symbol on my chest? Does that say Decepticon to you?" Wheelie practically shoved the Amaran's face into his chest plate to show him his insignia. "I'm an Autobot!"

"Autobot?"

"Yes, one of the good guys. I was the one who set you free." He said. The Amaran was finally starting to calm down and Wheelie put him back down on his feet.

"Come to think of it, you could've easily broken every one of my bones and stripped the flesh off my body over an open flame the minute you caught me, so I guess you are…good." The Amaran said cautiously, looking up at Wheelie. "I'm Rol. Who are you?"

"I'm Wheelie, Autobot courier."

"Well, thank you for saving me, Wheelie. Those carnivores were intending to use me as bio-fuel to power that wreck of a ship of theirs." Rol said with a relieved sigh. "It wasn't hard to trick them into going into another direction entirely."

"How were you captured by them in the first place? I only saw their ship crash from orbit, not yours."

"They ambushed my mate, Jan and I as we were heading back to our Amaran hard-ship. They chased us to this planet, where we crashed after shooting each other down in the upper atmosphere." Rol looked Wheelie over, taking in his rugged appearance. "From the looks of it, you had a harder time than either of us."

Wheelie gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I crashed here to after hit by a radiation wave. Took me weeks to follow the falling ship to this point. You're actually the first person I've seen since I got here." He rubbed the back of his head with a tired sigh. "I don't suppose you have a working ship that can take us off this rock, eh?"

Rol nodded. "We do, actually, and it's in almost perfect condition-oh."

Wheelie's Spark dropped. "Oh? What 'oh'?"

"I called my mate for an immediate rescue from the Cons chasing me. She'll be coming to me with enough firepower to waste a group of adolescent Abysmals." Rol grimaced. "The baddies are gone, but…"

"Here I am…with you." The Autobot's eyes widened when he heard a feminine war cry behind him and spun around to see a young Amaran female clad in high-tech power armor flying straight at him. "Scrap!"

"Die carnivore!" Jan cried out, firing her plasma rifle at Wheelie, who jumped back from Rol to escape her onslaught. "If you make another threatening move towards my mate, I'll unleash every anti-predator weapon this suit has to offer! S-see if I don't!"

"Hold up!" Wheelie held up his hands. "I'm not trying to hurt-"

"Die flesh eater!" Jan boosted forward and slammed her armored fist into his face.

Right before he blacked out, Wheelie thought, 'How does such a small person have a such a strong right hook?'

He woke up a few minutes later with an aching head and saw Jan and Rol standing over him. While he was knocked out, Rol was kind enough to explain the situation to his lover about how Wheelie was one of the 'good carnivores'. Jan, ever so embarrassed for cold clocking an Autobot of all people, apologized profusely to him for her…aggressive behavior.

"I can't express how sorry I am for attacking you, dear Autobot! We Amarans have a flight or fight response when it comes to dealing with anyone we see as predators." Jan giggled sheepishly. "Looks like evolution doesn't completely erase how all races act in the face of danger, huh?"

'I'll say.' Wheelie thought. "Don't worry, I'm fine. But Rol said your ship was damaged in the crash?"

"Oh yes! That," Jan pressed a button on her wrist band and the air behind her shimmered before revealing a large disc-shaped space ship that was almost as large as the Reflector team's shuttle.

"Wow." Wheelie whistled. He didn't even notice the ship being in the temple's courtyard. "Hard light cloaking?"

"Only the best of Amaran tech!" Rol smiled proudly. He walked up to the ship and patted it fondly. "This baby survived a fall from orbit after the Cons blew out our thrusters. It was heavily damaged in the crash, but we've managed to repair it."

"Mostly. Our hyper drive is still intact, as are our repulsor engines for vertical lift and our propulsion thrusters are 9also operational…but our ship doesn't have a stable power source!" Jan whined.

"Power…" Wheelie muttered. "I think I might have what you need."

XXXXXX

With Wheelie's assistance, Rol and Jan hooked up Wheelie's energon convertor to the ship's main engines to act as a slight power boost for the power cells, providing that extra pump to maintain flight. For the two Amarans, it didn't take that long to fix everything up, and just a little over an hour later, the ship was flight capable again. Wheelie and Jan were running final checks on the ship's systems while Rol looked over the ship from the outside to make sure the hull was sealed and tight. When Jan turned on the engines, they all smiled when they heard the subluminal engines hum and rattle with little noise.

"Finally, the ship's purring nice and loud." Rol said, smiling. "Let's get going before-"

A laser bolt was fired from out of nowhere and hit Rol in his ribs, knocking him over. Jan gave a startled cry and Wheelie looked up to see Spectro and Spyglass walking into the courtyard, with the former holding his blaster over Rol's body. The man was still alive, as the bolt was set at lower power, but he was in great pain and another shot could kill him.

"Nice shot, Spectro." Spyglass grinned.

"Thank you, Spyglass." Spectro said. "Hey, Autobot, your new pal's hurt, but he'll live-with some nasty burns."

"But he won't be alive for the next, oh…five nano-kliks!" Spyglass said. "That's how long you got to get out here!"

"Rol!" Jan screamed for her lover, and Wheelie was left with a difficult decision. Chances are he could distract the Cons long enough for Jan to rush in and gun them down, but Spectro would probably kill Rol first before fighting.

For a split second, he even considered leaving Rol and Jan behind, but he quickly killed that line of thought. Surviving on this planet had indeed changed him a great deal…and not for the better. He forgot why he was an Autobot…and he definitely forgot what the symbol represented. He glanced at Jan and saw that she also came to the same conclusion and he nodded.

"Hold your fire!" Wheelie called out before Spectro could hit one. "We're coming down."

Wheelie and Jan took their time going down the landing hatch, glaring at the Cons all the while. He was glad to see that Rol was still alive, but that gun pointed at his head could make any counterattack a tragedy. The Cons kept their aim on Rol until the two were in front of them, and Spectro lifted his gun.

"Thanks for complying, Autobot. Your meat bag friend won't lose his head." Spectro smirked. "Now feel free to stand there while we haul aft in your ship!"

Spectro and Spyglass ran past them and into the ship. Jan ran over to Rol and held him to her, crying in relief that he was alive. Wheelie just stared up at the ship as its thrusters activated and it slowly rose into the air, with Spectro and Spyglass visible in the pilot seats.

"Nice bluff." Spyglass said.

"Yeah. The power clip was empty, so I improvised." Spectro replied. "Last shot did it in."

Back on earth, Jan wiped her eyes and looked up at Wheelie. "You had a chance to go. You could've just gave them the slip and left us. It wouldn't have mattered to you in your war."

"It would. If I abandoned you two, then I don't deserve to wear this badge. I don't regret doing this. I'm not doing this as an Autobot, I'm just doing this as a decent person helping another." Wheelie said passionately. He gave her a grin and pointed at the ship. "Besides, don't think for a second that they won."

Jan blinked. "What do you-"

She got her answer when the ship exploded in a great big fireball in the sky with a tremendous boom. Wheelie smirked and held up a tiny component between his fingers.

"Fun fact: an energon convertor can become an unstable reactor if you remove the safety catch. Add that with a patch-work ship and everything goes boom." Wheelie bent down to lift Rol onto his back and walked back to the temple. "Let's see to Rol and get some rest."

XXXXXX

 **One year later**

Despite losing their only way off this planet, the lone Autobot and two Amarans weren't as bummed out as one would expect a couple of space travelers would be. As it turns out, Jan had sent out a distress signal when she and Rol crashed into the forest, but with the heavy radiation storms in that part of space, seeing if their distress call was received will take some time. With one year having gone by already, they learned not to expect too much.

Wheelie, Rol and Jan made their home out of the abandoned temple. They were hard at work clearing away the foliage and cleaning the temple enough to be somewhat livable. Wheelie helped the Amarans get food, though they turned out to be rather skilled at hunting thanks to their natural agility and stealth. For predator-hating people, they knew how to kill when it came to it. Things were quiet, a bit dull, but it was a welcome change for Wheelie.

He sat on the steps of the temple looking out into the misty forest. He missed his friends and the Autobots, but it was nice not having to compare himself to huge expectations. He spent so much of his life trying to be some big shot Autobot soldier like Kup and Springer; he forgot what it was like to be himself. He was Wheelie of Uraya, an Autobot courier, not some powerful warrior. And he needed his rest for now.

That didn't mean he wasn't going to live out the rest of his days in seclusion. One day he'll return to the fight, but not before he was truly ready. His time will come one day, and when it does, nothing will take him by surprise.


	20. Revelation part 1

Chapter 19-Revelation part 1

'Why did I come here?'

The Order cultist named Ba found asked herself this question as she flew over Cybertron's desolated, war-torn cities, along the region that used to be Polyhex…her home. There was her answer, to see the end result of that infernal war that turned this beautiful jewel of a planet into a wasteland.

This was her third time scanning her home city. She wasn't ordered to do this; she did this of her own accord to remind herself of why she went to such great lengths to annihilate both Autobots and Decepticons. It fueled her drive, gave her reason…gave her the strength to kill her enemies.

Ba flew over a small outcropping just outside of Polyhex's boundaries, diving low and transforming into her four-legged robot mode. She was a mix of brilliant gold and rusty brown, with a feline body and the head of a humanoid femme with bright yellow eyes and red lips that stood out on her pale face. Most cybertronians sported bipedal robot modes, though there were some who were forged with animalistic natural forms like Ravage and Laserbeak, and some who didn't even have robot modes at all, only able to change from one vehicle mode to another.

She padded along the uneven metal ground, hopping off a jagged spike jutting from the ground like a piece of shrapnel. Ba encircled a tiny piece of land that was untouched by the tectonic quakes and solar storms-this was where she was forged. Her hot spot.

"Home sweet home." Ba said in a tight voice. The memories came rushing and she struggled to keep from roaring angrily into the wilderness. Though she rarely showed it, it really hurt her to see this miracle of universal life turned into a ball of scorched metal. All because of an idealistic Prime and a warlord who saw himself as the next Galvatron.

Ba had sworn on the ruins of her former home that she would kill those responsible. She vowed to slaughter both Optimus Prime and Megatron with her teeth and claws, but Ember forbade her from taking retribution. They were on Terra now, and that left them in Thornment's jurisdiction. That lousy glitch.

"It doesn't matter." Ba hissed, a low growl in the back of her vocoder. "I'll kill as many as it takes to appease you, glorious Cybertron. You will get your retribution soon…we all will."

XXXXXX

The Altius Autobot shuttle left the cybertronian colony world of Regis-14, fully refueled and resupplied by the Autobot-sympathetic locals. Hound's team, who were on their way to Terra to reinforce Prime's team, was contacted by Elita-1 with new orders. All nearby teams within at least 2 light years were too head to Garrus-9 immediately. Hound followed these orders without question, having heard of the massive assault on the prison not too long ago. But Sideswipe, the team's resident firecracker, was of a different mind altogether.

"We are course-locked and steady, Hound." Road Rocket said. "Flight time is thirty-six point two cycles."

"Good. Sideswipe, how are we doing?" Hound asked. When he didn't get a reply, he looked at the red Autobot. "Sideswipe?"

"Hmm? Oh, everything's just wonderful. Peachy, really. I mean one minute we're headed for Terra, the next we're not. What could ever be wrong, Hound?" Sideswipe sneered and grumbled a few insults under his breath.

'Is Primus mad at me today?' Hound thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I meant in terms of the engines."

"It's like Sunstreaker has suddenly gone from low priority to no priority." Sideswipe went on. "One little emergency and its 'Oh, him. No biggie. That'll keep'."

"Give me strength…" Hound sighed. "No one's forgotten about Sunstreaker. It's just that a breakout from our number one maximum security penitentiary takes top priority immediately!"

"And chances are they'll be another priority…and another…until we skip going to Terra at all and poor ol' Sunstreaker ends up just another MIA." He replied. "Don't think I don't hear the whispers about how glad you all are that Sunstreaker the 'Class-A oil hole- is gone and quite for once! At least you bastards should have the bearings to say it to my face!"

"Told you to lower your voice." Skram muttered to Warpath."

"Look," Hound growled, glaring down at Sideswipe. "You want to take this up with Prime, be my guest. But you give him this kind of attitude and there'll be a spot for you on the "last resort" list!"

"Come off it, Hound." Sideswipe rolled his eyes. "I'm only saying-"

He was cut off when the ship rocked violently from something hitting the underside of the hull, nearly throwing the Autobots out of their seats. Hound fell over and got to his knees, pushing himself back up. "Who or what just hit us?"

"Slag!" Warpath shouted as he looked at the computer. "It was on us so fast the proximity alert barely beeped."

"Identify!" Hound ordered. He wanted to know what the hell hit them before they were torn apart.

Warpath brought up the feed from the external cameras on the main monitor, revealing a small but fast golden aircraft flying around the ship, peppering the shuttle with pulse blasts aimed at any part of the ship deemed vulnerable.

"I'm guessing its cybertronian, but he's not in our system." Warpath said.

"Bring the weapons online, Warpath, and await my command." Hound said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Skram, open all comm channels."

"Done and done, Hound." Skram said. Hound cleared his throat and said his warning in a loud voice.

"Unknown assailant-this is your first and last warning. Break off your assault immediately or we will respond with deadly force."

His warning didn't deter the assailant one bit; if anything, it made her more aggressive in her attacks. The flyer fired a blast near the ship's starboard. The resulting blast caused a pipeline to rupture and caused a power conduit to burst out of the wall near Sideswipe's head.

"Yeah, you tell him, Hound." He said dryly. Hound gritted his teeth.

"Fine, if that's how you want it." Hound growled. "All weapons, fire at will!"

The Autobots wasted no time in firing off the shuttle's missile payload and port side laser cannons, using line of sight sensors to track their target. The attacker shot down three missiles, but was left open to the rest of the barrage. She was engulfed in a cloud of flames and vanished from sight, seemingly vanquished. Warpath tracked the damages and whistled.

"Direct hits. Hostile has sustained critical damage. Actually, make that terminal." Warpath said. "All in all, he's scrapped."

Hound sighed in relief and thanked Primus. "Launch a marker buoy and notify the regional command hub. Ask them to send an investigation detail as soon as one becomes available. We have places to be." He said and slumped down in his command chair. "Road Rocket, resume course. Best speed."

Sideswipe hummed as he looked at the monitor, where the barely recognizable wreck of their attacker floated in space. "Would have been nice to know who that was and how we managed to tick him off quite so comprehensively."

"Yeah, it would. But this job is all about necessity over need. The whys and whereabouts can wait, Garrus-9 can't." Hound replied.

"Right, right, I get it. You don't have to sound like a recorder drone." Sideswipe sighed and leaned back in his seat. "No one says a thing when he shoots first and asks questions later, but when I do it…" He grumbled.

Suddenly an alert popped up on Warpath's monitor. "Um, Hound? We've got a situation-"

A large explosion hit the side of the ship, blasting apart more fuel lines and causing a chain reaction in the bridge. Warpath's monitor exploded in his face and he fell back after getting a face full of flames.

"Hull breaches on decks three through six. We're venting plasma from the port thruster assembly." Skram reported. His eyes were struggling to read through the various damage reports popping up on his screen.

"Shields are down! Switching tactical feed to helm. Emergency chaff deployed." Road Rocket said.

"Skram, damp down the affected fuel cells and redirect power to reserve shield generators." Hound said. "Sideswipe, see to Warpath."

Sideswipe ran over to help Warpath up, but the tank mech waved him off, shaking his head in a daze. "M'okay."

Sideswipe rolled his eyes. "Shut up and let me help you."

"Get me a visual!" Hound looked at the monitor and saw another flyer shooting at their unprotected flank. "What? Did we miss one?"

"Negative. I don't know how, but it's him. That same mech back from the dead." Skram said.

"Hold on. That's not a he…that's a she!" Road Rocket said, listening to the external speakers. "And from the enraged screaming she's dishing out at us, she's not happy with us at all!"

Outside, Ba unleashed her fury on the Autobot ship, taking out its weapons before focusing on the weaker points on the ship.

"No mercy for the wicked!" Ba roared. "For all that you've done, you deserve nothing less!"

XXXXXX

Banzaitron was not having a good time. His many cycles of training had taught him to always expect the unexpected, take any battlefield developments at face value and respond to them accordingly. But while he was quite adept at that strategy, this unwelcome surprise was definitely something he wasn't expecting.

His fleet was on their way back to Charr with the Chimeracons in tow, but while passing through an out of the way star system seldom traveled by starships, two dozen asteroids (or what looked like asteroids) appeared out of nowhere and started assaulting the fleet. Banzaitron was surprised by the sheer ferocity with which these unknown assailants attacked them, but he wasn't going to let them push him around like this. He ordered his fleet to return fire while he took their precious cargo away from the field.

Unfortunately, before they could even break formation, one of the asteroids fired a massive beam of light at the warship and sent it careening into the orbit of a nearby planet with only half of their thrusters working. Their descent was violent, descending into the planet's atmosphere and falling into the heart of a nearby swamp. The rest of the fleet was heavily engaged in orbit and couldn't come to rescue Banzaitron's warship, and there was still one asteroid that pursued them onto the planet. However this battle was going to end, Banzaitron was damn sure he was going to emerge victorious.

"I don't know who or what you are, but you'll regret raising your hand against me!" Banzaitron growled, staring down a strange alien being made of pristine white stone. His upper body was that of a handsome humanoid male, but from his hips downward was a black sphere which the being used to float around on.

"Your bravado is laughable, but ultimately futile, Decepticon. Just give us the combiners and we will leave you alone." The dolem general named Mitras grinned. "Resisting us at this stage is pointless. There's no need to waste your laugh fighting a meaningless battle."

Though Banzaitron's Decepticons largely outnumbered Mitras' dolems, the firepower of the stone aliens outclassed theirs by a large margin. The dolems were odd amalgamations of humanoid and animal beings in a strange but functional fusion that granted them powerful abilities. Even Banzaitron, who was no stranger to the metaphyscal aspects of the universe, was awestruck by what could only be considered magical aspects of these creatures as they tore through his ranks and dominated the battlefield. Mitras alone had already killed two dozen Cons before running into Banzaitron.

"If you think I'm going to abandon my quarry just because you said so, then you're a bigger fool than your masters, machine." Banzaitron sneered. "Go back to your masters and have them come say that to my face!"

"If my Queen did that, you'd be nothing but a pile of ash by now." Mitras replied.

Having had enough of the dolem's arrogant behavior, Banzaitron drew his long, thin sword and lunged at Mitras. The dolem smirked and snapped his fingers, creating four orbs of light around his body and had one of them sink into the ground at Banzaitron's feet. A second later the ground exploded, sending water and mud everywhere as the Con was blasted off his feet and into the air. Another motion made the other two orbs shoot energy beams at Banzaitron, who deflected most of them before getting hit in the chest.

Banzaitron crashed through multiple trees before digging his feet into the ground to stop his propulsion. Activating the rockets in his forelegs, he flew back at Mitras and raised his sword. Mitras changed his last orb into a long blade of light and blocked the strike aimed at his head. Banzaitron attacked ferociously, but somehow Mitras was amazingly able to counter his attacks. They were matched blow for blow, and the infuriating grin on Mitras' face did little to settle Banzaitron's temper. In his anger, he overextended a bit, which allowed Mitras to speed forward and slam his elbow into his face before punching his chest with enough force to knock him back a few feet.

"Enough of this farce. I have work to do." Mitras said and raised his blade to strike Banzaitron down. Banzaitron raised his own sword to counter whatever Mitras was going to throw at him, but the time never came.

"Stop, Mitras! He's mine!"

Mitras scowled and backed away with a huff. "Fine. He's yours. Make it quick."

Mitras floated aside to allow a tall mech to step into view. He was deep red and green, with hard armor plating on his shoulders and waist, signs of a tank alt mode. Banzaitron almost didn't recognize him if not for the hauntingly pale white face that looked like a skull staring back at him like some demon. And his eyes…he knew those fiery eyes anywhere.

"Bludgeon?"

"In the mesh." Bludgeon said. Banzaitron looked him over in unsuppressed disbelief. "I take it you don't like my new look?"

"What happened to you?" Banzaitron asked. "What have you done to yourself?"

"I've become something more, Banzaitron. Thanks to my benefactors, I've gotten a little upgrade after leaving Cybertron." Bludgeon drew his swords. "Did you like the little present I sent everyone? I hear he was absolutely grand on Cybertron."

"You have a lot of nerve showing your face to me." Banzaitron growled. "You've not only tried to kill everyone, but you've sided with a third party against your own people! That's treason of the highest order."

"Can't be a traitor to a cause you've never truly respected."

Bludgeon lunged forward with a howl and slashed at Banzaitron. The secret service officer blocked his strikes, but Bludgeon kicked off the ground and flipped over Banzaitron, slashing his swords against his back. Banzaitron spun around to swing his sword in a wide arc, but Bludgeon leapt back and spin kicked him in the chest. Banzaitron tried to fire his electro-cannon, but Bludgeon shoved his blade into the barrel of the cannon just as it fired, causing it to explode.

Banzaitron fell back, allowing Bludgeon to rush through the flames and stab his swords into his shoulders, pinning him into a tree. Banzaitron grunted in pain and glared back Bludgeon. "When Megatron gets word of this-"

"Megatron is stuck on a backwater planet fighting Prime's forces, and Shockwave couldn't give a damn about the war effort from his lofty abode on Nimrod." Bludgeon chuckled. "By the time both sides learn of what's going on, we'll have completed our goal and made this universe into what it is meant to be."

"You're insane. I still have a fleet in orbit and you're greatly outnumbered by my soldiers. Even if you do kill me, you'll still have to fight through three battalions-"

"Hold that thought." Bludgeon cut off Banzaitron with a finger as he listened to something on his comm. After a few seconds he nodded and returned his attention to his opponent. "Sorry, that was my subordinates calling to give an update on their mission. I am proud to say that they've retrieved your special "package"."

Banzaitron's Spark went cold as he heard that. "W-What?"

A loud but muffled roar ripped through the air from the confines of his warship and everyone turned to see the giant vessel shake before a massive form tore through the armored hull. Monstructor emerged from the now bisected ship in his bestial glory, sharp teeth gleaming and eyes glowing with madness as it stomped through the swamp towards Bludgeon and Banzaitron. Bludgeon grinned and looked at his former rival.

"I have what I need, but out of respect for you, my former rival, I will allow you to live just long enough to watch me tear apart everything you hold dear." Bludgeon said and walked away from Banzaitron. "Monstructor, kill them all."

Monstructor's roars drowned out the screams of the unfortunate Decepticons caught in his destructive rampage.

XXXXXX

Across the galaxy, on another world, another Decepticon installation was also being attacked by the dolems. An infiltration unit led by Obsidian that was already in the middle of their Phase Six stage when they were suddenly assaulted by a host of alien beings that attacked them in large numbers.

"Sir, we don't know where they came from, but apparently they appeared out of hyperspace a few minutes after Sixshot arrived here." Astrotrain reported.

Obsidian's red visor narrowed in thought as he stood amongst the wreckage of the city that he aided in destroying just a week ago. The landscape around him had once been a thriving civilization that based their technology on energy harnessed through crystals, which attracted the Decepticons to this fertile world.

XXXXXX

" _Ultra Magnus, I need you to head to Garrus-9. The prison just suffered a major security breach and their new prisoners were taken by the Combaticons."_ Elita-1 said.

"Understood, Elita-1. I'll be there in three to four cycles. However long gone our subjects are, there's work to be done." Ultra Magnus said from his seat in the Steelhaven. "I should be able to find some evidence of our attackers once I'm on the ground. Magnus out."

He signed off and was immediately sent a data file on the Chimeracons. Ultra Magnus quickly read through their profiles, memorizing it and cataloguing the data with his information on Kopesh.

"The Chimeracons, history's first recorded combiner team. Created by Jhiaxus in an attempt to introduce combiner technology to the populace." Ultra Magnus muttered and leaned back in his seat. "Why do I think it's no coincidence that Jhiaxus was Kopesh's teacher?"

Ultra Magnus got an alert on his comm panel and switched it on. Hound's face appeared on the screen, with numerous loud noises in the background.

" _This is Hound, sending an emergency call to any Autobot vessel in the vicinity: priority one. We are under sustained attack by an unknown assailant. Conventional weaponry is proving to be ineffective. We need urgent assistance."_

There was an explosion in the background and the message cut off. Ultra Magnus immediately checked the coordinates from his position and sent a message back.

"Altius, this is Ultra," He said, turning the ship around. "I'm on my way."

XXXXXX

"The Thunderhoof has well and truly bolted." Chromia said. "Slog, Wildfly, Scowl, Bristleback, Birdbrain and Icepick-all gone."

"Don't forget Monstructor, their gestalt. That makes seven."

"Thanks for pointing that out, Road Rage." Chromia rolled her eyes.

"All well and truly in the hands of the enemy." Elita-1 crossed her arms and frowned.

She had arrived on Garrus-9 after hearing the news of the recent assault on the prison. A massive surprise attack of that scale should not have gone unnoticed for as long as it did, but Warden insisted that he didn't find those battleships until it was too late. Repairs to the penitentiary would take a while, but thankfully, aside from the Chimeracons, the other prisoners were still contained. But this left a bad feeling in Elita-1's gut as she processed this along with the rest of the incidents going on. Was Ember behind this one as well?

"Strange thing though; we found a survivor in one of the downed attack ships. And when I mean "survivor", I mean he was still alive post-crash. Thereafter he was strung up, tortured, and beheaded." Chromia glanced at Jetfire and Warden. "Any ideas on what that's all about?"

Warden and Jetfire shook their heads, but they traded a quick, knowing glance. Elita-1 decided to inquire about that later and focused on the situation at hand.

"Ultra Magnus is on his way. I'm confident he can both unravel any lingering mysteries and find those who took the Chimeracons. In the meantime, we need to re-secure this facility before the Decepticons get any bright ideas. That falls onto you, Warden. You're in charge." Elita-1 said.

"I'll tighten this place faster than an inhibitor claw." Warden vowed.

"What about us?" Chromia asked.

"Chromia, you and I have some unfinished business on the Lilac Avenger." Elita-1 told her. "We need to be ready to move out for when something else happens."

XXXXXX

Very few things unsettled Nightbeat. You had to have a strong mind in his line of work, because sometimes you uncovered some unsettling things on certain cases that you couldn't un-see. Nightbeat would have a case like that on an odd day, but this…this had to be one of the few times he was genuinely shaken.

" _Krakon's untimely demise led me here, to Gorlam Prime, where I found excavations dating back to a time period concurrent with the Proudstar's Benzuli expedition and scattered the artifacts from that self same vessel."_ Nightbeat watched the recording in silence, a vaguely troubled expression on his face. " _I am now preparing to descend into the main shaft at site U-5. Carrier wave summary ends, Nightbeat signing off."_

The recording ended and Nightbeat turned to the small console next to him. He typed in a number and a face appeared on the screen.

" _Nightbeat, what's up?"_ Hardhead asked.

"Well, I've just played back a report I filed three deca cycles ago from a planet called Gorlam Prime, never even heard of it until now. Something's very wrong." Nightbeat said calmly. Despite his tone, Hardhead could tell that his fellow headmaster was deeply worried. "Hardhead, I need help. Your kind of help."

XXXXXX

Ba weaved around the Autobot ship, mercilessly layering blast after blast of pure quintessence into the now motionless ship. Her stores of quintessence remained relatively high for now.

She knew she should've left well enough alone, but she was getting impatient. Ba hadn't killed anything since Kopesh's last excursion and visiting Cybertron for quite possibly the last time made her act irrationally. Time was against her. She shunted her mission to the side for a little skirmish. Ember didn't appreciate people who wasted her time.

"Time to end this and get back on track." Ba growled and began charging up for one last attack to take out the ship and everyone in it. She neared the ship for a perfect shot, but two particle beams slammed into her, hitting one of her wings and knocking her askew. "Frag!"

The space above her warped and the Steelhaven emerged from fold space, attacking her with its forward mounted particle cannons. Ba cursed, of all bots she had to catch the attention of, it had to be the most relentlessly dutiful mech in the Autobot army. And at the most critical of times!

'The Expansion is close and I have work to do.' She thought, flying around and breaking contact to fly away from the attacking ship. 'Don't worry, little Autobots. You'll all die in the storm that will cleanse this universe. Mem Aleph will make sure of that.'

"Altius, this is the Steelhaven." Ultra Magnus called the shuttle. "Is everyone alright?"

" _We're all in one piece, sir. Thanks for the intervention. Not sure how much punishment we could've taken."_ Hound said.

"You Bots sit tight. I'm going after him. Rogue cybertronians are my business."

" _No easy task. She's fast, very hard to kill and she has teeth."_

"Trust me, I know every trick in the book when it comes to tracking from a distance. And that femme's been on my hit list for a while now. Magnus out."

Hound sighed and ended the call before looking at the damages his ship sustained. Just a few more seconds and that femme would've torn the Altius in two. How powerful was she to be able to fight off an Autobot shuttle like that?

"Come on, Hound!" Sideswipe yelled. "You're not really going to leave it there, are you?"

"Sideswipe, did you just see that femme poke holes into the shuttle? We're in no condition to start a fight right now. And Ultra Magnus can handle it." Hound replied.

"That femme took a direct hit from four missiles and five laser beams and came back with only a worse attitude than before. She's not normal, Hound. She's just like the femme that stole Thunderwing."

Hound blinked at that. He totally forgot about the femme that tried to torch them. A femme that made short work of them before stealing a living WMD. If their attacker was anything like her, then Ultra Magnus would be walking straight into a trap, or worse.

"Skram, is the ship still flight capable?" He asked.

"Yeah, just barely. But it's nowhere near combat ready without our weapons and shield systems." Skram said.

Hound shook his head and sat in his chair. "The ship can't fight, but we can still hold a gun. Follow Magnus's course, he's going to need some help."

XXXXXX

The Decepticon battle platform, Zuska, had gone from warship to torture chamber in a little under half an hour. A quick and quiet infiltration into the ship and a painfully slow massacre of the personnel on board. All she really needed was one bot alive to get she needed. Who better than one of the captains who took part in the Chimeracon retrieval operation?

"It took me a long time to find you. Too long." Deadscream drawled, running a finger down her flaming sword. "You led me on a lot of false trails and I don't like being led around!"

She stabbed the sword into the bleeding mech's chest, and not too quickly either; she made sure to have the blade sink into his chest plate as slowly as possible, melting through his armor and internal components at an agonizingly slow pace.

"So I'll ask you one more time, nicely…and then things will get ugly." She hissed.

"I…don't know." The mech groaned in pain.

"Yes you do. You freelance out to Banzaitron's secret service, do odd jobs for him. You were there, at Garrus-9. I talked at length to a "friend" of yours on this very subject. Now, once more…" She jammed the sword in further, getting more cries of pain. "Where is he? Where has Banzaitron taken the Chimeracons?"

"I…I…" He was crying now. Deadscream leaned in.

"I'm so very close to your Spark now." She whispered. "Just one little push and…"

"Wait! Wait…" He screamed. "I'll tell you everything!"

Deadscream's scarred lips split apart in a demonic grin. "They always do."

XXXXXX

Ba flew towards the moon Corata-Vaz as fast as she could. She already burned up half her quintessence stores to hit superluminal velocity and reach the moon and she hoped that she still had enough to properly return to Ember. Odd how despite their apparent mastery over the life energy of the universe, only Ember seemed to be able to use vast stores without drying up. Why, no one knows, not even Ember herself. Perhaps Mem Aleph knows; the Dolem queen seemed omnipotent at times.

Ba transformed into her sphinx-like robot mode and landed at the entrance to a cave on the moon's dark side. She padded into the cave, where a high tech terminal was set up. It looked like a power generator mainly found in engine rooms on ships, but at its heart was a giant dark green crystal-a lodestone used by dolems to store large quantities of quintessence to use for long term operations. The machine it was hooked up to was called the nega-core, meant to activate the energy inside the stone for practical use.

She typed in a few commands to activate the nega-core, channeling power into the lodestone. As that happened, she went to activate this nega-core's guardian with a hand scanner, but she froze at the last minute.

Ba looked up at the inert form of the so-called guardian. She saw what damage the monster caused to Cybertron and was reluctant to really set that monster loose again. Sure, it was powerful, but Bludgeon could barely control it last time, and she doubted Ember could either.

"Scrap." Ba growled. She believed in Ember's dream of a reborn Cybertron at the heart of a utopian galaxy, but so far, all they had been doing was prolonging a nightmare that started to grow out of control. She trusted Ember, but that black hole in the Benzuli Expanse…that was too powerful, too volatile.

"Let's hold on plugging you in." Ba said to the sleeping giant. "You're too unpredictable to be released onto the universe again."

As long as the nega-core was active, things were going smoothly. Ember didn't need the guardian so long as the core's location remained secret. Once everything was said and done, it will no longer matter. With that thought, Ba smiled and began to leave the cave…only to be met with a collection of guns pointed at her face.

"Hi," Sideswipe grinned as his team pointed their weapons at her. "Remember us?"

"Ba, you're coming in for questioning. We can do this my way or the hard way." Ultra Magnus said. "Choose."

Ba hissed, baring her teeth, claws digging into the ground. She had to resist the urge, one wrong move could ruin the operation before it could produce results.

"Come on." Sideswipe taunted her. "You know you want to."

"You're right." Ba replied. "I do."

She lunged forward with a roar, firing energy bolts from the cannons on her back and a larger beam from her mouth at the Autobots. They were scattered by the attacks, but Sideswipe was grinning like a damn fool.

"Yeah, that's it!" He laughed, rolling across the ground and firing his blaster. "Atta girl!"

"Why is it always you who kicks it off, Sideswipe?" Hound asked annoyed.

"Maybe it's because I don't hide behind rigmarole and convention like you, Hound!" Sideswipe replied. "I know who I am and I see no reason to deny it!"

Ba hissed as she was hit by plasma bursts that blew off chunks of her armor, but she used the pain to fuel her anger. This is the real her…the result of the hellish life brought about by the Autobots, Decepticons and their leaders. She is an animal born only to do one thing…kill.

Ba snarled and rushed at Hound and Sideswipe. Unhinging her jaw, she fired another blast from her mouth, hitting Hound's gun arm and destroying it completely. As he staged back, she weaved across the distance between them and leapt on the Autobot, digging her clawed hands into his chest. She bit and scratched at him, inflicting heavy wounds to his chest and face.

Sensing sideswipe flank her, Ba pushed off Hound and back flipped, landing on in a sprint. The head crests framing her face unfolded and emitted two long energy blades on both sides of her head. Dodging Sideswipe's attacks, she charged him and spun around his body, slashing his left side with her laser blade. He cursed as energon spewed from his deep wound.

"Can't handle the pain, boy?" Ba cackled, digging her claws into the ground to make a sharp turn. "You'd do well to remember your betters!"

She was so caught up in her assault that she didn't notice Warpath's tank mode until he fired an explosive shell at her. It hit her in the side and was sent sprawling, deactivating her blades and hitting the ground in a tumble. She managed to end up on her feet with a healing smoking hole on her side and tried to stand up, only to have a plasma rifle shoved in her face.

"Don't." Ultra Magnus said firmly. "It's over."

Ba grinned. "You're right. It is. And what I do now is because you leave me no option!"

Raising her right leg, Ba fired off her right hand and sent it into the cave. It landed on the touch pad and activated the nega-core inside…and its guardian.

"What did you do?" Ultra Magnus demanded as he pointed his rifle at the cave.

"I simply ensured that the contents of the cavern are well and truly beyond your reach." She gave them a bloody grin. "I have faced my personal maelstrom…this is yours."

A loud roar came from the cave and the Autobots were caught by surprise when a massive fist shot out of the darkness, hitting the ground and unleashing a powerful shockwave that blew them back. They could only see its face, but they knew it well enough from their nightmares.

"Thunderwing?" Hound gasped.

Thunderwing howled as the Autobots opened fire on it to keep it at bay, but they had no idea it was programmed to remain inside the cave's only entrance to block it. Thunderwing fired a stream of flames from its mouth to hold the Autobots back while Ba slowly got to her feet.

"See you all in hell, Autobots." Ba sneered and transformed, flying away from the battle.

"Wait, hold up!" Hound shouted over the loud blaster fire. "Why isn't it moving?"

Ultra Magnus narrowed his eyes. "Yes. It's just standing there. Like it's…"

"Protecting something." Hound finished. "It won't touch us now that we're out of range."

Sideswipe sighed, clutching the wound in his side. "Well, at least we know now what happened to Thunderwing after that run-in on Cybertron. And who else is involved in this whole mess."

Pressing a button on his wrist, Ultra Magnus commanded the Steelhaven to launch a drone to track Ba. He had to know where she was going and possibly who else was involved with this. Something's been set in motion, and no one knew where it will end!"

XXXXXX

On the Lilac Avenger, Elita-1's grim expression matched her mood perfectly as Ultra Magnus reported the battle to her.

"Truth be told, I've been expecting something like this ever since Ember stole Thunderwing from Cybertron." She said. "Her, Ba, Monstructor, it's all connected to Nova Prime and the Proudstar in some way, and now she's entering the final phases of her plan. Set up a biovac on Corata-Vaz. Monitor but do not engage. This situation demands no false moves!"

" _Understood_." Ultra Magnus said and signed off.

"Jetfire, I want to know exactly what's in that cave." Elita-1 told the scientist.

"Right."

Elita-1 turned to her friend. "Chromia, summon the Wreckers before things really start to fall apart."

XXXXXX

Inside the bowels of an odd looking comet composed of a tight fusion of rock and crystal, Ember got the first reports from Ba in the field.

"Are we ready?" She asked Kopesh.

The jackal-headed mech nodded. "Yes, one of the nega-cores is online. We're right on schedule."

"Good. Have the Reapers move Monstructor. The Autobots are catching on faster than we expected and we need to make sure they still dance to our tune."

"Yes ma'am."

Ember watched him go and turned to Mercurius and Vayeate. "You two are with me. We must return to Mem Aleph for the final phases."


	21. Revelation part 2

Chapter 20-Revelation part 2

"It's not just the missing memories I'm concerned about, it's my entire state of mind. If something else was done to my neural processor, I could easily be a danger to you and the other Autobots." Nightbeat said to the bulky green mech before him. Hardhead was completely silent as Nightbeat gave him a rundown on what could happen on their investigation.

"I intend to retrace my steps, find out exactly what happened in those deleted cycles, but I need you with me." He continued. "I want you to watch me like an Ardurian Roc, and if I lose control, even for an instant…eliminate me."

Hardhead stared at Nightbeat for a moment before giving a curt, "Sure."

"Sure?" Nightbeat echoed.

"Yeah," Hardhead nodded. "Sure."

"You're…insanely calm about this. No trying to talk me out of going on this risky possible suicide mission that could get me shot in the back by a fellow Autobot?"

"Nightbeat, you're obviously dead set on finding answers, and with all the craziness going on in the field, I'm inclined to believe almost anything right now." Hardhead said with a shrug. "And you obviously know the risks, and you trust me to do what's necessary. Besides…it wouldn't be the first time someone's asked me that."

Nightbeat caught onto that end part, but wisely chose not to ask about it as Hardhead was already walking toward the ship.

"So where do we start?"

XXXXXX

Gorlam Prime was definitely a strange place. Hardhead and Nightbeat took a ground bridge from their ship to the planet's surface, near the same city Nightbeat recalled being in from his recording. Taking on their vehicle modes, they drove down a highway into the city, where Hardhead took noticed of the oddly biomechanical inhabitants. Behind the heavy armor plating of his alt mode, his headmaster body watched the natives go about their daily lives, organics with cybernetics finely crafted into their bodies.

"Why does it feel so weird here?" Hardhead asked himself. It was normal for organic species to evolve into a cybernetic age, but something about this place screamed extraordinary.

"The inhabitants here are steadily evolving from organic to techo-organic in a time too short to be natural. In my recording, I had believed that maybe outside interference was the reason." Nightbeat said. "In a couple of decades or less, these people will evolve into fully mechanical beings. Just like-"

"Us?" Hardhead said.

"Yeah."

Hardhead hummed and asked, "So what's the plan?"

"That carrier wave summary I sent back to my ship, before-whatever happened…happened, mentioned a specific excavation site. We'll start there."

"Right."

They drove in silence for a few minutes, weaving through the light traffic as they drove towards the outskirts of the city. Neither said a word as Nightbeat was lost in his thoughts, and Hardhead kept a close eye on him. For a split-second, literally just a second, Hardhead thought they'd have a smooth time on this planet, but the universe caught wind of his lowered guard and sent them a welcoming party just to prove him wrong. On instinct, Hardhead sensed danger and drove in front of Nightbeat to protect him from the oncoming wall of laser blasts coming from the group of miniature robots down the highway.

"Stay behind me!" Hardhead said. "I'm taking point!"

"What are you doing, Hardhead? They're cybertronian!" Nightbeat said.

"No, they just look and act like us, but they're not cybertronian. Right now, they're hostiles, pure and simple." Hardhead said and drove forward. Energy bolts bounced off his thick armor and he fired pulse blasts from his cannon in return.

The little robots, micromasters Nightbeat would later dub them, were extremely fast thanks to their size. The transformed bots moved quickly and efficiently as a unit, dodging his attacks and using the highway barricades to flip into the air and land behind them in a complicated flanking maneuver. Hardhead winced as some of them started targeting his weak spots in his undercarriage, and yelled at Nightbeat to back up. He was planning on moving in reverse to protect his flank, but saw that the micromasters were blocking all visible exits.

"Slag." Hardhead transformed into robot mode and fired his plasma rifle at the robots, who in turn focused all their firepower on him. He growled when a small fighter jet swooped in over his head, dropping bombs on him. "We're pinned in! Any ideas, Nightbeat, because there are limits to how much punishment I can take."

"And yet I'm off-limits." Nightbeat observed, taking note of how the micromasters seemed to actively avoid him even when being shot at. "Which only supports my belief that I'm involved in something that's in store for me."

"That's cool and all, but we gotta go!" Hardhead yelled.

"Where?"

"Down!" Hardhead leapt off the bridge with Nightbeat not too far behind, falling two stories in the air and crashing straight through another bridge down below. It might buy them some time, but eventually, with how persistent their pursuers were, they'll run out of places to go.

XXXXXX

"Round two, lunkhead!" Whirl hollered as he fired three missiles from his wings.

"Wreck and Rule!" Springer yelled, joining Whirl and Top Spin in attacking the still stationary Thunderwing.

When Elita-1 called the Wreckers to combat Thunderwing, Springer didn't hesitate to lead the assault, dragging half of his best available Wreckers to Corata-Vaz to hit Thunderwing hard. It was only slightly comforting to know that Thunderwing was operating at full power, but that was debatable in the monster's case, as he took everything the Wreckers had to offer, all without moving from his position at the mouth of the cave.

"Take out his legs!" Roadbuster yelled, firing his chain cannon at Thunderwing's large legs. "Push him back in!"

His ground team slowly closed in on Thunderwing, firing his missiles and rockets and laser bolts at every part of the beast they could see. Despite the heavy assault, Thunderwing didn't even budge, though he didn't attack either, only retaliating when the Wreckers passed over the designated no-go zone in its range. The minute they did that, Thunderwing roared and slammed its hands together, blasting them back with a powerful shockwave.

The battle was being watched by Elita-1 and Chromia on their ship. They winced when they saw the Wreckers get hit by Thunderwing's attack.

"This is suicide." Chromia said.

"I know, Chromia. But if they didn't at least try, they wouldn't be the Wreckers." Elita-1 said.

"I guess. It just seems to me like we're wasting precious time." Chromia huffed. "This, the Monstructor mess…it's like everything's coming at us at once."

"True. But above and beyond the brawn, we have the brain." Elita-1 pressed a button on the comm-center and brought up Jetfire. "Jetfire, anything?"

" _Well, there's a big energy spike coming from the cave Thunderwing's guarding, but it's defeating our best efforts to categorize it."_ Jetfire said. " _On another note, Ultra Magnus gave us a little clarification on the femme who started Thunderwing up. I'll bring up her file."_

A profile image of the wanted femme appeared on the screen and Elita-1 read it. "Ba of Polyhex; wanted for multiple felonies, mainly assisting Kopesh in subjugating multiples races under the guise of divine authority."

"Kopesh? As in…Jhiaxus' student?" Chromia questioned.

"Yes, the very same. And Jhiaxus was on the Proudstar with Ember along with Nova Prime." Elita-1 frowned. "It all keeps coming back to the Proudstar. And since the Proudstar's first destination on its voyage was the Benzuli Expanse, let's start there. We need something to go on if we want to stop this catastrophe from getting off the ground."

XXXXXX

"I thought I'd find you here." Kopesh said as he met with Ember in the atrium of the dolem transport ship, which was disguised as a lone asteroid. It was a massive chamber made of ores, soothingly polished and gleaming with precious jewels as if it was the throne room of a grand palace. Ember sat in a throne made of gold ore, head resting on her fist, eyes closed in contemplation. "You always come here to think."

"A lot has been on my mind lately. Namely how close we are to achieving our goals." Ember said, running a finger along the jeweled veins of her throne. "For eons I have dreamed of rescuing Nova from that horrid limbo and now that I'm close to liberating him I can scarcely believe it."

"It's a lot to take in, yes, but do not get ahead of yourself. When we enlarge the black hole, not only will the Proudstar be found, but a massive influx of energy from the Dead Universe will flood out as well. And we all know what it does to living beings…what it did to you."

Ember looked at her hand. "I know, but I trust Mem Aleph to purify the energy like she did with me. With her power, we can harness the Dead Universe, turn it into a massive source of quintessence for us to not only revive Cybertron, but also make it into something better, stronger…godlike."

"You trust the dolems to hold their part of the plan?"

"Even gods have fears, Kopesh. And the Dead Universe puts even Mem Aleph on edge. Better to use it under controlled conditions than have it erupt naturally from the Benzuli Expanse and slowly overwhelm us." Ember said and looked at Kopesh. "How go the preparations?"

"All three nega-cores have been activated, as have their respective guardians, but…" He cleared his throat. "Our opening gambit has not gone unnoticed."

Ember narrowed her eyes. "Exlpain."

"Ba drew unwanted attention on what should've been a clandestine incursion and now Autobots are assaulting Corata-Vaz. And Nightbeat has also found his way back to Gorlam Prime."

"The situation on Corata-Vaz is regrettable, but still ultimately controllable. Thunderwing is the very epitome of unstoppable force and immovable object." Ember hummed. "However, the exposure or loss of Nightbeat at such a critical stage would entail direct action on our part. Kopesh, see to this personally."

Kopesh bowed, his canine lips pulling back in a bestial grin that looked more like a snarl. "As you command, high priestess."

XXXXXX

"This is it, excavation site number 4." Nightbeat said as they entered the eerily quiet construction site. It looked no different from his supposedly last visit, but the excavation vehicles were gone.

"Looks real welcoming." Hardhead muttered. He didn't see himself as truly fearless person, but the depressing aura of this place made his joints shiver despite the lack of cold.

"All clear. Let's go…" Nightbeat trailed off as he looked down the massive pit at the heart of the site.

Hardhead touched his shoulder. "Nightbeat?"

"It was at this point I sent the carrier wave summary. From here on in, it's one big blank." Nightbeat said. "We'll be going in blind and whatever I encountered down there might still be there too."

Hardhead frowned when he heard the slight catch in Nightbeat's voice. This was affecting him more than he thought. "Nightbeat…" He looked up and cursed. "Nightbeat, move! We've got company!"

From above, a swarm of little mechanoid fighters in jet mode descended on them and opened fire. Hardhead covered Nightbeat with his body and shot back at them with his combat rifle. Energy bolts more powerful than they should've been hit his armor and blew holes in the ground around them as they ran into the elevator once Nightbeat hit the button, they descended into the pit, away from danger…and into something much, much worse.

They exited the elevator into the large tunnel near them, weapons drawn as they moved forward. Nightbeat racked his memory for something could help him in his mission, but nothing came up. All he knew was familiar was that unsettling feeling of dread in his Spark.

"That cage, these tunnels…they were constructed to accommodate beings of our size." Nightbeat said after studying the elevator and the tunnel. "I know a cybertronian's involved somehow."

"Anything coming back to you?" Hardhead asked.

"No. Yes. Maybe." Nightbeat sighed and shook his head wearily. "It's as if…I know where to do. What direction to take. But the scariest thing about it is that I can't see what's co-"

Nightbeat felt a sharp pain in his head and stumbled forward, causing Hardhead to tense up. "Nightbeat? You ok-"

He froze when Nightbeat spun around and pointed the gun to his forehead. "Scrap."

"That's an accurate way to describe your situation." Nightbeat said. It was his voice, but his words were definitely not his.

"Nightbeat's not in the driving seat anymore, huh?" Hardhead growled.

"No. He is ours." Nightbeat said.

"And you are?"

"The future. We are preparing a template for the entire universe here…on Gorlam Prime. You're witnessing the fine tuning of a species to make it capable of withstanding the very worst extremes of this or any reality. You will thank me for when the new genesis occurs. Our people will thrive, along with our world." Not-Nightbeat said. Hardhead looked down and saw a group of micromasters standing around Nightbeat's feet with glowing red eyes. "Soon two universes will be fused into a synchronized whole, a utopian reality maintained and regulated by the cybertronian elite."

"That…sounds insane and completely stupid." Hardhead said.

"An uncouth gun-wielding brute like you would never understand, of course. Given how your kind caused the death throes of our species. You people have no place in it!"

Nightbeat shoved the gun barrel into Hardhead's forehead. "Good bye, Hardhead." Then he pulled the trigger and fired a laser bolt into the mech's head.

XXXXXX

Deadscream knew something was wrong the minute she found Banzaitron's ship in the middle of a swamp, almost torn in half with a massive hole in the side. Decepticon corpses littered the bacteria infested water, which had run blue with spilled energon. Her eyes roamed over the bodies, trying to ignore the hungry growl rising up her throat. She may have been a cannibal, but even she wouldn't devour bodies left rusting in dirty water. Got to draw the line somewhere.

"Could've at least left some for me, bastards." Deadscream muttered, kicking a head out of her way.

Deadscream reached the remains of the ship and ignited her swords, greeted by the familiar sight of dozens of dead bots torn apart presumably by the gestalt that broke out. But upon closer inspection, Deadscream realized that someone else had cleaned the floor with these poor glitches and left them to rust. Switching her optical sensors to infrared, Deadscream saw that three mechs were still alive; Gutcruncher, Axer and Banzaitron, though the latter looked to be on his last legs.

"Wakey, wakey, Con." Deadscream tapped her sword against Banzaitron's chest.

"Wha…" Banzaitron grunted as he jerked awake, looking up at Deadscream. "W-Who?"

Deadscream held her sword over his head. "Tell me what happened here, Banzaitron or I swear I'll finish the job~"

"D-Deadscream? If you're looking for Monstructor, you're too late. They…activated him somehow. Woke them up from induced stasis and they combined…as you can see," He coughed. "It was a massacre."

"Where? Who took him?"

"Banzaitron. He attacked my fleet with these aliens, some kind of creature made of stone. They assaulted my ship and Bludgeon's little pets stole Monstructor and killed my soldiers. I know where they went, though. I tagged each of the combiners and I doubt they even noticed." Banzaitron looked into Deadscream's eyes. "Work with me, Deadscream, and perhaps we can both get what we want."

Deadscream thought about it for a hot minute. "Okay. If the trail truly does lead to Kopesh, I'll follow you into the deepest valley. Now clean yourself up, while I," She looked at the bodies around her. "Have a little snack."

XXXXXX

Hardhead's head was thrown back by the laser bolt that hit him right between the eyes and he stumbled back. Nightbeat almost gave a triumphant grin, but that fell when he heard the string of curses from the still living Autobot.

"Ow!" Hardhead yelled his forehead smoking.

Nightbeat, or whoever possessed him, looked extremely perplexed and surprised. "How…?"

"Fun fact: Hardhead is not just a name." The headmaster punched Nightbeat aside and converted into his tank mode just as the micromasters fired at him. He spun around and fired a pulse blast at the tunnel ceiling, causing debris to fall on them and block the tunnel.

'That won't stop them for long.' Hardhead thought, spinning around again to drive deeper into the dark tunnel. 'Nightbeat was right about someone messing with his head, but who did it? What's so special down here?'

With his only escape route blocked, Hardhead did the only thing he could do and drive deeper into danger. Without any explosions or talking, that same oppressive aura came back again in full force. It only took him a few minutes driving at top speed to reach the crown jewel-a giant pool of glowing silver liquid.

Hardhead knew this had to a portal of some kind, similar to a ground bridge, only more archaic. Knowing he had little options, he took a couple of steps into the pool.

"That way lies only darkness and resolution. A place utterly bereft of life."

Hardhead saw Nightbeat and his micromaster squad standing at the shore of the pool. "Care to elaborate?"

"We call it…the dead universe. What it was, what races and species once called it home…is now only a stillborn reality rife with decay and stagnation. Its deadly miasma is fatal to creatures like us, the antimatter to our matter." Nightbeat explained. "Go in there and you'll never find release. Just accept that you've lost and allow us you bring you peace. Resist and your suffering…shall be eternal…"

For a split second the force controlling Nightbeat faltered and the Autobot's consciousness returned just long enough to give Hardhead the order. "Do it!"

Hardhead's arm shot up and pulled the trigger, firing a beam into the center of Nightbeat's head. An instant kill. Nightbeat gave him a grateful smile before he fell to the ground, the light leaving his eyes.

The micromasters opened fire on Hardhead, who quickly turned around and dived into the pool, swimming to the deepest part of the pool before vanishing beneath the surface.

He had no idea where it would take him, or if he could even survive the transition. But when faced with an impossible decision, it was better to meet things…head on!

XXXXXX

"Ah!" Kopesh fell to his knees clutching his head as a sharp pain erupted in his mind.

"What?" Ember ran up to him. "What's wrong?"

"The instrument…it's gone. Gone!" Kopesh growled. "My connection to Nightbeat has been severed!"

Ember's fiery eyes glowed dangerously at that unfortunate news. Nightbeat was supposed to be their sleeper agent in the Autobots. Cause dissention among the ranks to distract the Autobots…or try to kill that annoying Elita-1. Unfortunately, she underestimated the intelligence of the Autobot sleuth and how she was forced to get her hands dirty too early in the game.

"Kopesh, head to Gorlam Prime and rally your faces. Protect the portal."

"And…you?"

"I'm taking the Mastema and going to Garrus-9. I'm wiping out those accursed Autobots once and for all!"

XXXXXX

In the Benzuli Expanse, an Autobot science vessel drifted out of range of a monstrous black hole that looked like a pulsar was about to go off. Its size was immense and its power unlike anything that could naturally occur in the galaxy. And what was worse was that it was growing.

" _What do you mean gone?"_ Jetfire demanded.

"I mean not there anymore! The whole system, planets, stars, the lot!" Cloudburst exclaimed, looking fearfully out the window at the massive spiral of dark energy of matter in space. "And in its place, a big nothing."

"It's unlike anything I've ever seen, Jetfire, and we're getting zero telemetry back from it." Landmine said.

" _Drones? What about drones?"_

"Cease to function as soon as they cross the event horizon." Waverider replied. "And I have a nagging suspicion we're if we were to try, the same would happen to us."

Jetfire pursed his lips. _"I wonder."_

"Jetfire?"

" _Cloudburst, you're going to hate me for this…but you and your team just volunteered to go into the unknown!"_ The scientist smirked. _"And I know just the thing to help you."_

XXXXXX

Elita-1 rubbed her chin as she considered Jetfire's proposal. "I'm not sure, Jetfire. Even with all the refinements and upgrades…well, we've all seen what happens when this technology goes bad."

"I know, Elita-1, but since then we've run through countless simulations. Perceptor managed to do it with Kup, and I can fine tune it for Cloudburst's team." Jetfire said. "And the trust is, we're running out of time. If we don't find out what this anomaly is and what's on the other side, a rogue mech or four could be the least of our problems!"

Elita-1 bit her lip…then nodded. "Do it. We're in the dark here and we need more information."

"Elita-1," Searchlight called out from the comm-station. "I have Dealer on a priority channel. Says its information."

"Go ahead, Searchlight. Put him through."

Dealer's face appeared onscreen, and Chromia's face wrinkled a bit. She never liked nor trusted Dealer. Something about him felt…wrong. But she wisely kept her opinions to herself as he gave them some information that was hopefully useful.

" _Elita-1, I've been monitoring your current situation and I think I have the answer. Or rather, I know where the answers lie."_ Dealer smirked. " _There is only one thing in the universe that can provide the answers we need, and it lies with…the Magnificence!"_


	22. Revelation part 3

Chapter 21-Revelation part 3

The Magnificence. An ancient and relatively mysterious artifact that was completely unknown to the known universe until just recently. It was a crystal orb that would glow different colors in various wavelengths and was said to have the answers to any question based on probability. All in all, it was a mix between advanced technology and archaic energy storage.

Rodimus' history with the Magnificence was…rough. His entire unit sans Dealer died during the retrieval operation and he almost lost Dealer forever thanks to faulty equipment and a surprise attack from the Decepticons. It was the last thing he wanted to even think about with all the trouble it caused him. Then Dealer came zipping through the air in broad daylight in a shuttle after he got done raiding an OZ base. After a light hearted greeting, Dealer gave him a quick rundown of the situation and how dire it was.

"So we have an unknown enemy using Thunderwing, Monstructor and is causing an already volatile black hole to go crazy?" Rodimus said and sighed. "Good to know our boys off world are having as much fun as we are."

"Yeah, and even now we're all just running around blindly in the dark with little to no information on what's going on." Dealer said urgently. "Which is why we need the Magnificence."

"Font of all knowledge known and unknown, eh? Nice tagline. Thing is, Dealer, we don't know enough about the Magnificence to presume it'll just cough up relevant information." Rodimus grimaced. "And, well, if it ended up in the wrong hands, Primus help us all!"

"Hey, no arguments from me in that regard, Rodimus, but this comes directly from Elita-1. We're close to desperate right now." Dealer finally noticed the two Sunstreaker clones lying as smoldering wrecks not too far from them. "What happened here, anyway?"

"That is a twisted version of a headmaster using Sunstreaker as a template. I just got done torching these two when you found me." Rodimus rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been looking for Sunstreaker and Darren, one of the natives, for days now, but so far I have no idea where to look. And time's running out for all of us on this planet."

Dealer smiled, seeing an opening and going in for the kill. He cleared his throat and said, "Seems you need the Magnificence too."

"Yeah." He snorted. "You, me and the Magnificence. It's as if we're coming full circle. After agonizing over that Ki-Aleta mission, maybe it's time to put old ghosts to rest."

"And hey, look, if you don't trust me," Dealer placed a hand on Rodimus' shoulder. "Who can you trust?"

Rodimus thought about for a second before nodding. "Okay. I'll take you to it."

"Good. Good." Dealer nodded happily. "I'll take you to my shuttle. You won't regret this, Rodimus. The Magnificence is the answer to our problems"!

"No." Rodimus shook his head. "Nothing's that easy. If that were the case, the people who had the Magnificence wouldn't be in ruins. For all that knowledge…there's always a price."

XXXXXX

While the forces of Optimus Prime and Megatron fought the growing scourge of OZ, halfway around the world, unbeknownst to them, a warp gate appeared in the rice fields of Xing's countryside. From it came a large blue armored vehicle, followed by a bright red fighter jet, both of alien design. The red jet circled over part of the field they were in, shooting missiles at a single spot. He continued doing this before his partner called out to him.

"Enough, Mercurius." Vayeate said. "You can start drilling now."

Mercurius stopped shooting and transformed to robot mode, landing beside his sister and kicking up dust in his face. "This place…it's so ripe with energon."

"The entire planet is, not to mention the abundant supply of ore-13 that's growing by the day." Vayeate said as she changed forms and signaled their transport ship to deploy the drill from orbit.

"And we're not searching out an ore-13 vein because…?" He questioned.

"It'll take too long. Finding ore-13 is a lot harder despite having energon sensors. And we don't need to attract the attention of the Bots and Cons on this planet." She replied, watching the drill slowly descend to their position. "And time isn't on our side. The operation is at risk no thanks to Elita-1's Autobots."

"Gods above, she's more annoying than that Alpha Trion rust bucket."

The drill reached a low enough altitude and lost its parachute, dropping into the ground and automatically burrowing into the hole Mercurius made. Deploying its stabilizers, it started drilling into the rock with great ease, beginning the process to harvest energon for the duo's operation.

XXXXXX

Ba could feel the power of the Expansion drawing her in and struggled to stay on course as she flew near the black hole. Ripples of dark matter swirled around her as she approached the Autobot ship, the Mirror Manifold, that was edging dangerously close to the event horizon of the anomaly.

" _I'm sure you don't need reminding on what your task is this time, right Ba?"_ Kopesh said in her comm.

"I'm well aware of my task, Kopesh. You just focus on salvaging the mess on your end." Ba replied. "I don't need a reminder on how to kill Autobots!"

She dived toward the shuttle and began firing aether beams from her cannons into the defenseless science vessel. Her attack was unexpected as it was deadly, and the science team inside was unprepared for an attack this close to the anomaly.

"Waverider, repot!" Cloudburst yelled over the Klaxon alarms.

"Shields are holding…for now. But we're not equipped for sustained combat, and whatever she's hitting us with will tear us apart!" Waverider said.

"Weapons online, Cloudburst."

"Bring us around, Groundbreaker!" Cloudburst said. "Landmine, fire at will!"

The ship spun around and fired its laser cannons at Ba, who weaved through the beams and continued assaulting them. Cloudburst gritted his teeth as he saw the femme dance around them as if this was a waltz and not a battle. She was playing with them!

"Someone get me Jetfire! We're going to need all the help we can get!"

XXXXXX

"I just got word from the Mirror Manifold," Chromia said. "They're under attack by the same Order member who fought Hound's team on Corata-Vaz."

"So the anomaly is a part of their plans. Otherwise they wouldn't be working so hard to hold us back." Elita-1 said. "What about the Wreckers?"

"Still fighting Thunderwing, but nowhere close to killing him." Chromia said.

"Figures." She sighed. "Have Jetfire assist Cloudburst's team, and Searchlight, keep an eye out for any hostiles on Garrus-9."

"Hostiles? Who?" Warden frowned. "Elita-1, Garrus-9 is at its highest security rating. Not even an Ixtil (see Voyage of the Space Beagle by A.E. van Vogt) could get in."

"Never underestimate you enemy, Max. The Decepticons had no problem attacking Garrus-9 for the Chimeracons, and if I know Ember's mindset, she'll want to make sure we don't interfere more than we've already have." She told him.

"I think you might be right sir. We're got multiple hostiles closing in on us fast!" Searchlight announced from the surveillance station. Warden and Elita-1 looked shocked and dismayed at the news.

"What? Who's attacking us?" The warden asked.

Searchlight brought up the external camera feed on the main monitor. It was a host of bipedal stone creatures with avian wings made of pure onyx and sporting smooth, featureless faces, wielding long staves that fired powerful beams of light down at the prison. Those that landed were carrying golden broadswords. Warden didn't hesitate as he quickly started giving orders to mobilize their defenses.

"What are those things?" Chromia asked.

"Dolems." Elita-1 frowned, thinking back to what Optimus told her of his experiences on Terra. "Looks like Ember isn't pulling any punches today."

"Sir, we've got a breach in the eastern wing!" Searchlight reported, further dragging down their moods. "I'm getting reports of a femme blasting apart our soldiers!"

"Ember!" Elita-1 scowled.

In the eastern wing of the prison, Ember melted a hole through a reinforced wall and stepped through her, flexing her wings to get the molten metal off them. She smirked at the response team assembled before her with their weapons pointed in her direction.

"Don't move!" The team leader said, charging up his rifle. "If you so much as flinch, we'll shoot you down."

"You poor, pitiful creatures. You actually think you're intimidating." Ember chuckled. "How cute. But my business is not with you!"

Ember boosted forward on jets of flame from her feet and punched a hole through the mech's chest. The other Autobots opened fire on her, but she used the body as a shield before shooting a fireball that blasted three of them into the wall. Discarding her corpse shield, she kicked a mech in the face before slamming her foot into the floor, sending out a fiery wave that blew the rest of the team back. Ember flipped into the air and started hacking away at the Bots, tearing off limbs, blasting off heads, punching smoking holes through their chests. She was utterly ruthless in her dealing with what she could barely call opposition, killing almost a dozen Autobots with disturbing ease. And still, more Autobots came to fight her.

"Where are you, Elita-1?" Ember yelled. She took out her swords and combined them into their bow form. "Come out and face me, war monger!"

"Dear lord," Warden muttered in horror. He watched her shoot three flaming arrows at once at his security teams, blasting them apart with the explosive projectiles. "Hostile is on the move in Sector Four. Tac-Teams, 6-South and K-East intersections. Take her down with lethal force!"

"Warden…call them off." Elita-1 said quietly. He spun around to stare at her.

"What?"

"Your soldiers will only get slaughtered. Ember's too powerful and we'll only end up losing a lot of good Bots." She said. "Chromia, you have command. I'm going to finish this once and for all!"

XXXXXX

It took a lot to catch Doubledealer by surprise. He was the one used to catching others off-guard, in the "I'm going to kill you" way, not the "haha, you got me" way. Who would've thought it'd be Rodimus of all people to get the jump on him, though even he had to admit it was a clever ruse.

"This is where you hid it?" Doubledealer said as they drove through the sandstorm ridden plains of Ki-Aleta, the last place he'd thought to look for the Magnificence. "All this time and-"

"What?" Rodimus asked. Doubledealer caught himself and tried to regain his composure.

"Nothing, just…surprised, that's all. I mean, who'd have thought to look on the very planet it was taken from!" He laughed nervously.

'Careful, idiot.' Doubledealer thought to himself. 'One slip and he'll know what I did…what I really am. Still, to think that the brash and loud Rodimus would have been able to dupe even me like this. Well, credit when credit is due.'

Doubledealer managed to convince Rodimus to forgo his search for Sunstreaker and Darren on Terra to help him find the Magnificence. Rodimus gave him the directions, which led them straight back to where it all began, Ki-Aleta, where they found the relic in the beginning. It all brought back a lot of memories for Rodimus, and for Doubledealer as well. Even more so that they were heading for the Omega Bunker where the Magnificence was discovered and retrieved from.

The way the situation was going put Doubledealer on edge. Coming back to Ki-Aleta provoked feelings he was unfamiliar with. Was it unease? Guilt? As Rodimus led him into the tunnel he used for his escape back then, Doubledealer could only chastise himself for feeling such deep emotions. He was in too deeper for regrets now. Gizmo, Backbeat, and Download all died, directly or indirectly by his hand, and he had no trouble living with that fact…mostly.

"Rodimus, we have to go." He told his partner.

"Right. Yeah. It's just…" Rodimus knelt over the tunnel, oddly melancholy in his thoughts. "It still doesn't add up. I've been over it again and again and I still don't get how it all fell apart so suddenly. What went-"

"Rodimus, it isn't your fault." Doubledealer said, taking robot mode. "You can't keep beating yourself up over what happened back then. The here and now is what matters. They knew the risks. Don't let their sacrifice be for nothing."

Rodimus smiled. "Thanks Dealer."

Part of manipulating someone is knowing what buttons to press. It was difficult to slowly plant thoughts in a person's head while remaining discreet. But Doubledealer had been doing this for a long time. He was forged and raised in Nova Cronum, a city known for its intellectuals, braniacs, and theoreticians who more often than not spent most of their time with their work than with each other socializing.

He was raised in a place that was surprisingly cutthroat in its dealings. Scientists who discovered something new and groundbreaking had to be careful, lest they find their life's work either stolen, copied or destroyed by some less scrupulous person. Doubledealer was just a lower caste scrub who had a voice that could make Liege Maximo dance. He learned how to mask his emotions and intent behind masks and fake names and smiles. Have your opponent decipher your intentions visually, while you're thinking something totally different.

It's been like this throughout the war, through every tactical unit he had been a part of, trying his best to be assigned to high risk missions of great strategic value. He cared little for the Autobots he fought with, the Autobots he often betrayed. The lives destroyed in his wake. War was just a means to an end, and anyone who thought otherwise needed to die. Factions were foolish, a shallow reason to have friendships in wartime.

Doubledealer hated working with Rodimus team. He was smarter and more christened in the ways of the world than them, save for Rodimus. He knew how to play the Game. Despite this, he felt…something. It felt good to have someone watching his back for once, to actually care about his well-being. He actually felt a sort of kinship with Rodimus, who had his own fair share of struggles in his life. Someone who knew how cruel life really was.

Doubledealer blinked and shook his head to return to the present. Focus. He had a mission to do and lapses in judgment were not acceptable. Emotions were not needed in his line of work.

XXXXXX

Aboard the Autobot cargo vessel, Enterprise, the Technobots were hard at work in developing protection against the hazardous energies leaking from the Benzuli Expanse. They were the first people Jetfire contacted when he voiced his plans in creating environment suits based on Thunderwing's original work. Unfortunately, things were reaching a critical point now and time was becoming a scarce resource.

" _When do you think you can get there, Nosecone?"_ Jetfire asked.

"Best ETA is six cycles, I'm afraid." Nosecone sighed. Behind him, the other Technobots were hard at work in creating the biomechanical carapaces.

" _Can't you get more speed out of that crate, Nosecone?"_

"We're pushing the engines to their limit as it is, Jetfire. And anyway, the carapaces aren't fully meshed." Nosecone said. "And I'm assuming you don't want us rushing that."

Jetfire pursed his lips. " _Unless you can deliver them to Cloudburst and the others soon, it'll be an empty gesture."_ She sighed. " _But you're right, this isn't something we can afford to rush. Last thing we need is another Thunderwing."_

He brought up Cloudburst on an adjacent monitor. "Cloudburst you get all that?"

" _I did. We'll hang on as long as we can."_ He said and signed off just as another explosion rocked the shuttle.

Jetfire scowled and rubbed the bridge of his nose, thinking back on what exactly went wrong with Thunderwing. If he could figure out what went wrong with the scientist's experiments, then he could safely manage the development process of their own pretender tech. Suddenly, he had an idea on what to do with Thunderwing.

" _Jetfire, you still with us?"_ Nosecone asked.

"Sorry Nosecone, I was just thinking about Bludgeon and how he managed to control Thunderwing via an axis cradle override." He said. After thinking on it a bit more, he stood up from her seat. "Guys, I'll be off the grid for a while. You keep working on the carapaces. I think I have a way to take Thunderwing out of the equation."

XXXXXX

Elita-1 entered the vast sub-level of Garrus-9, where Ember was last spotted a few minutes ago. She had her plasma rifle out and powered up, eyes scanning the large chamber. It was deathly quiet, save for her footsteps and the faint sounds of battle up on the surface.

"Come on out, Ember!" Elita-1 called out. "You wanted me, well here I am!"

Like a fireball, Ember dropped down from the ceiling in beast mode and swooped down to the floor. She changed forms in mid-flight, and landed on the floor with fiery wisps rising off her.

"Hello, Elita-1." She greeted dryly. "Been a while."

"It has. Still trying to undermine Nova's legacy, I see." Elita-1 replied.

"Legacy? What legacy? All I see are a bunch of children playing war games after destroying our beloved Cybertron! All those years of peace and glory under Nova's rule is gone, no thanks to you detestable cretins!"

"Nova Prime may have had Cybertron in a golden age, but he was a conqueror, no different from Megatron. The only difference is that Megatron doesn't hide his intentions of conquest behind a thinly veiled façade of expansionism." Elita-1 said. She and Ember were circling each other now. "And I suppose setting Thunderwing on us was your way of cleaning the slate? You blame us for killing Cybertron, but you hammered the killing blow!"

"Thunderwing was a mistake, yes, and I do not deny that he only expedited matters…but I do not regret why I did it. Nova and I shared a dream, a dream of allowing the entire galaxy to know and experience a utopia brought about by a superior race. An empire where our kind, those born of metal, live in peace above these lowly organic animals. Pax Cybertronia." Ember said in a wistful voice. "Do you know what it was like to come back to that planet and see all our hard work slowly deteriorate and rust over? The Rust Plague, the isolation of the colonies, the energon shortage, the rise of Functionism and the indictment of Nominus and Sentinel…and your worthless war!"

Ember drew her swords and the temperature around her slowly rose. "I'm going to make Nova's dream a reality. But first I need to strip away the dead flesh…beginning with you!"

Ember propelled herself forward on flame jets spouting from her feet, lunging at Elita-1. She thrust her sword at Elita-1, who leapt back and allowed the sword to shoot past her head, cutting her cheek. Elita-1 spun around and dug her heel into Ember's face and kicked her aside, enhancing the blow with telekinesis. Ember righted herself and charged at her foe, attacking furiously with fiery attacks that Elita-1 had to block with her sword and shield.

Elita-1 deflected a flaming slash from Ember and spun around, bringing her blade down on the femme, who kicked it aside. Ember formed her bow and fired an arrow into Elita-1's shield, exploding on contact and knocking the Autobot back. Ember rushed forward and kept up her assault with a large wave of flames that engulfed Elita-1, but to her surprise, Elita-1 ran through the flames, protected by only a thin TK barrier as she slammed into Ember and knocked her to the floor. She flanked Ember and wrapped an arm around her neck and trapped one of her arms, squeezing her as hard as she could.

"Don't underestimate me!" Ember hissed and gave a powerful shriek, discharging a plume of flames that blasted Elita-1 off her. Elita-1 hit the floor hard and Ember lunged at her, planning to run her through. Elita-1 put her weight on her foot and ducked under a fireball, throwing a powerful punch to Ember's chest that almost caved her chest in and sent her flying back into one of the generators.

Elita-1 rolled her neck and retrieved her sword with a flick of her wrist, waiting for Ember to make her move. The orange femme sneered at her, collecting her swords and charging at Elita-1, snarling as flames shot out of her wings. Elita-1 met her charge and they clashed in a storm of fire and metal.

XXXXXX

There was a little voice in the back of Doubledealer's mind that wondered if he was the one being played here. He stood with Rodimus at the foot of a giant mountain that reached hundreds of leagues into the air, its peak obscured by lightning laden clouds like some evil villain's fortress from a Solivision show.

"Up there?" He asked.

"Up there." Rodimus nodded.

"Can't we just fly up?"

"No. Those storm clouds are loaded with ionic energy. The only way to the top is to climb." Rodimus was already starting his trek up the mountain side. "So up we go!"

And so they began their long climb up the steep mountainside amidst an iconic cloud storm that could easily short circuit their systems in one shot if not outright destroy them. One misstep on a ledge could lead to a very long drop to a fatal crash landing. Doubledealer had to admit, it was a smart move on Rodimus' part to hide the Magnificence there, where the only way to reach it was to physically climb into a hazardous environment. His praise at Rodimus' cleverness was tempered by his annoyance at the mech's constant picking over the course of their original mission.

"So many questions; who tipped off the Cons we were there? Because even if that comm-channel was unsecured-how did they know when and where we used fresh codes."

"Rodimus, can we please focus on climbing?" Doubledealer asked.

"Sorry, Dealer, its just something that's been bugging me. I mean, what makes a new electro-capped Holomatter power cell just up and explode?" Rodimus went on. "And…why did the Decepticons kill Backbeat and take only you prisoner? No offense, but you're not the most crucial to take prisoner for interrogation."

'He's asking too many damn questions.' Doubledealer thought, pausing in his climb to glare at Rodimus' back.

"So many questions and no answers." Rodimus' voice was soon engulfed by the rushing winds and crackling thunder as he disappeared into the clouds above. Doubledealer waited for Rodimus to reappear and got nervous when nothing happened.

"Rodimus? Rodimus!" He called up.

To his relief, a hand emerged from the clouds and he took it. Rodimus pulled him up onto the mountain's peak, where Doubledealer looked around. There wasn't anything special to see, since the peak was flat and featureless, but what was more concerning was that he couldn't see the Magnificence. "Where is it?"

Rodimus smirked and motioned to the crystal orb sitting in a small crater, clean and polished as if it wasn't sitting in the dirt in the middle of a storm.

"F-Finally," Doubledealer stammered, his eyes sparkling greedily. "Ask it something, Rodimus. Anything."

"Sure. Why not?" Rodimus shrugged and picked up the orb. "Now let's see. How does this thing work again?"

While Rodimus was preoccupied, Doubledealer took out his pulse cannon and pointed it at his back. A grin was present on his face at the prospect of all the secrets that little bauble had, all the secrets it could unlock with a single question. Now that he thought about it, why should he hand over such a useful tool to the DSS? The Magnificence could make him omnipotent! No one could touch him ever again!

All he had to do was pull the trigger. As he leveled the cannon at Rodimus, the faces of his former team flashed across his mind and he scowled. Emotions cloud your thoughts and made you act irrationally. Be an island. Let no one in. Pull the trigger! Pull the trigger!

"Ah, I got it!" Rodimus said and leaned in. "Did Dealer betray us?"

The Magnificence glowed and a feminine whisper spoke from the ruby gem in the orb's center. " _Yes."_

Drawing upon reflexes honed from years of street racing and urban combat in Nyon, Rodimus spun around and fired his arm cannons into Doubledealer's chest before the Con could get a shot off. The double agent was blasted off the mountain and fell, screaming all the way to the bottom. His body had nothing to cushion its fall and he exploded into a million pieces upon hitting the ground. Rodimus watched it all happen with a blank expression.

"Take emotion out of the equation," He said to himself stoically as he looked at the relic in his possession. "And the answer was staring me in the face the whole time."

XXXXXX

 _Yo, Magnus! I got some crucial info for you!"_ That was the first thing Ultra Magnus heard while flying the Steelhaven. Rodimus was barely finished with his sentence and Magnus already felt the urge to toss him into the brig for that alone.

"Rodimus? I thought you were on Terra with Prime's team." Ultra Magnus said.

" _I took a break to help you guys out after hearing how deep in slag you all were. Now listen closely, because I have the answers to everything you need to salvage this mess the Order started. All thanks to the Magnificence."_

"Everything?" Ultra Magnus questioned. He wanted to inquire as to what Rodimus was doing with the Magnificence, but time was of the essence at the moment.

" _Everything, Magnus. According to the Magnificence, that thing you're trying to get to on Corata-Vaz is a nega-core. Its function is to multiply/accelerate the effects of an expanded anomaly in the Benzuli Expanse."_ Rodimus explained. " _There are three of them: the one on Corata-Vaz, one on Rotan and one on the fourth moon of Bhul."_

"Bhul," Ultra Magnus scowled at the familiar name. "The Stellar Cartography Archive."

" _Huh?"_

"Nothing. Please, continue."

" _Okay. Um, each has their own guardian-Thunderwing, Monstructor, and just recently, Sixshot. And each guardian has a neural implant, effectively making them slaves to Kopesh's will. Getting at the cores won't be easy."_ Rodimus went on. " _There's activity on Terra, too. They're mining ore-13 as their power supply. And the whole set-up is linked via multiple alien warp gates to a hub on Gorlam Prime."_

"Good work, Rodimus. Now return to Terra and help Prime. We can handle it from here."

" _No need to tell me twice. I've just found my ticket to saving Sunstreaker."_ Rodimus smirked and the screen went black. Ultra Magnus set up fold space coordinates and got ready for a long trip back.

"If these nega-cores are all connected like one large interstellar network, then just taking out one should be enough to cause everything else to collapse. The only problem we have is finding the weak link." He muttered, bracing himself as the ship began its travel through fold space.

XXXXXX

Garrus-9 was once again a warzone as the dolem horde of creatures called Mastema assaulted the already battered prison. Autobots manned the automated weapons systems to shoot down the flying avian invaders, while those that still could fly fought the dolems themselves. Even Fortress Maximus took to the battlefield, rolling through the crater-marked landscape in his battle tank mode, firing his twin ion cannons with great efficiency.

"Tear them all apart!" Warden shouted to his Autobots. "We will not let this prison fall to a bunch of nobodies. If you can still fight, don't let them take any ground!"

Meanwhile, inside the prison, a massive undertaking was about to be performed while Elita-1 and Ember did battle within the bowels of Garrus-9. One that may turn the tide of the entire mission.

" _You're doing what now?"_ Springer demanded over the comm-link.

"Jetfire's going to try to override whoever's controlling Thunderwing." Chromia said. As they spoke, Jetfire was already hooking himself into a makeshift axis-cradle he managed to refurbish with Road Rage's help.

"Springer, when I give the word-move in." Jetfire said as he hooked himself into the seat. "Because I have no idea how long I can hold him once I sneak in."

" _Understood."_ Springer nodded.

"Guys! Guys, we have a really big problem!" Road Rage exclaimed as she ran into the room. The red and black femme looked very scared and wasn't getting any better by the second.

"You mean aside from the other big problems currently giving us the shaft right now?" Chromia growled.

"What is it, Road Rage?" Jetfire asked.

"We've got another visitor heading our way." Road Rage said. "It's Bludgeon. He's tearing through the security teams and is coming for us guns blazing!"

Chromia blinked and straightened up. "Well…that is a big problem."


	23. Revelation part 4

Chapter 22-Revelation part 4

Terra-at last!

Never had Sideswipe been as glad as he was at that moment to be on some backwater planet. The first thing that came to his mind upon ground bridging onto Terra was his brother, Sunstreaker. Unfortunately, despite probably being a fiber-optic's breath away from locating his missing twin, Sideswipe had other concerns to deal with-namely the two dingbats mining energon in this rather beautiful countryside.

"You two look tired from all that energon mining. Here's a fist for your troubles!"

Sideswipe was a seasoned close combat fighter, more accustomed to using his fists and melee weapons that using guns though he was good with those too. While Sunstreaker, the brawler, used every dirty tactic in the book to win, Sideswipe knew his way around the ring through skill alone (a fact Sunstreaker made quite clear he was envious of. His constant jeers and taunts were the result of that). As the war went on, he mixed up his fighting style with repulsor technology, generating localized force fields around his hands and feet to enhance his physical blows. Something Mercurius got a close look at when Sideswipe clocked him in the face.

"Brother!" Vayeate unfolded her positron cannon, but found herself under fire from the rest of Hound's team.

"Sideswipe!" Hound called out. "We'll back you up!"

"No, focus on the blue femme." Sideswipe said, punching Mercurius in the face again. "This little's bastard's mine!"

"Sideswipe…oh for heaven's sake." Warden, who had accompanied Hound's team to the planet under Ultra Magnus' orders, sighed and looked at Hound. "How do you deal with him?"

"I tell myself it's for the good of the universe and hope it's good enough for a promotion." Hound said, ducking under a beam fired from Vayeate's cannon. She proved to be as resilient as her brother when the rest of the team opened fire on her and she took their laser blasts head on without even flinching. "Sideswipe's a loose cannon and a pain in the ass, but he's very useful in situations like these."

"No arguments there." Fortress Maximus grunted. "At least he's more manageable than his brother."

Mercurius skidded back from a kick to the chest but remained on his feet. Sideswipe threw another punch at his head, but he ducked under his fist and wrapped his arms around Sideswipe's torso, lifting him up and slamming him into the ground. He blocked the Autobot's next punch and spin-kicked him in the chest.

"You're good kid, but take it from someone who's got far more experience in killing-you're out of your league." Mercurius said.

And take it from someone who's made a career out of snuffing out bots out of my league-you're nothing special." Sideswipe smirked.

This was a familiar feeling, of his time back in the slums of Kalis. He and his brother were born of a split Spark, as was common for cybertronian siblings. They were runts growing up, they never stayed in one place for too long, traveling around Cybertron's western hemisphere fighting in underground gladiator circuits. They made a great team, but their personalities clashed; Sunstreaker had an attitude that made his violent tendencies worse and Sideswipe had to hold him back from doing something stupid.

It was aggravating having Sunstreaker as a brother. He always saw himself as top dog, looking down on bots weaker than him, bullying people for some small, insignificant reason, starting fights haphazardly. Honestly, it was sickening to watch how cruel Sunstreaker could be. But Sideswipe knew, for all their differences, he could count on Sunstreaker to watch his back and vice versa.

They've been through worse situations that being declared MIA no some pre-space age industrial world full of haughty organics. Sideswipe would've known if Sunstreaker was dead, and he wasn't. But he was in pain, and that pain is what fueled his resolve to beat Mercurius. It's what gave him the resolve to win…just to beat up his brother for making him worry.

Warden and Hound ran over to the warp gate, which was an old stone structure with four crystalline pillars crackling with energy drawn from the planet's atmosphere itself. This was the dolem teleportation device presumably meant to ferry energon off Terra in an instant, faster than even light speed.

"Here's our objective. So what now?" Hound asked, grimacing as he saw Warpath get sent flying back from a well-placed punch to his cannon-chest.

"Let's find out, Hound." Warden called up Ultra Magnus. "Magnus, we're in position. What now?"

" _The information provided by the Magnificence has proven highly enlightening: the warp gates are teleportation devices made by the dolems to link three nega-cores, the simultaneous detonation of which will accelerate the spread of the Benzuli Expanse anomaly, crushing two universes into one._ " Ultra Magnus said. _"Our top priority is to shut them down or render them otherwise inert. Protecting the nega-cores are three guardians-Thunderwing, Sixshot and Monstructor, each with enough clout to keep our best at bay until it's too late."_

"I'm assuming our actions aren't going unnoticed." Warden said, thinking back to the assault already going on back on Garrus-9.

" _Aside from the attack on Garrus-9, Jetfire is attempting to override the neural stranglehold on Thunderwing via an axis-cradle. If successful, the Wreckers will then secure the core and feel real-time decommission data to Hound's team. The entire operation is headed by Kopesh on Gorlam Prime, who isn't going to let us unravel a plan meta-cycles in the making."_

"Don't worry about him, Magnus." Warden smirked. "I have someone in mind for him."

XXXXXX

"What the hell do you mean you lost him?!" Onslaught's shout was loud enough to be heard throughout the entire ship. Vortex sighed and tried to block out the noise to better hear the Solivision drama he was watching at the moment.

In his quarters, the Combaticon leader was just getting the bad news of what happened to their captured gestalt from Banzaitron, who looked like he had been through hell and beyond. Needless to say, Onslaught wasn't happy about losing a prize to some nameless enemy that spat all over the Decepticon name.

" _It is as I've already explained. The fleet was attacked and Monstructor was stolen by an alien force lead by cybertronian rogues, Bludgeon at the forefront."_ Banzaitron said, not the least bit perturbed by Onslaught's temper. " _And since I was so impressed with your performance during the retrieval mission, I'm looking for your assistance in getting Monstructor back."_

"How the hell do you lose a gestalt? That damn thing is almost 200 ft tall!" Onslaught yelled.

" _The combiners were hardwired long before we got a hold of them. The attack was just a means of activating the implants and setting the beast loose."_ Banzaitron said. " _Fortunately I have a tracking signal on one of them so I know exactly where they are. I'm already enroute to your position and-"_

"Hold on! You're under the impression that we want to go to your stupid suicide mission. We barely made it out of that last clusterfrag when that psycho Seeker tried to slice us up." Onslaught yelled. "Why the hell should we risk our mesh to fix your screw up?"

" _Because I have an executive order from Obsidian basically saying that I can use whatever resources and personnel at my disposal to retrieve the gestalt. Your team was first on my list since you did a wonderful job last time."_ Banzaitron said. " _Now if you're done whining, Onslaught, I want you to be on standby for my ID signal. Since my ship was torn in half, I'm arriving in another's ship with some added help. Banzaitron out."_

Banzaitron's face disappeared and Onslaught clenched his fists tight to keep himself from punching the monitor. He really hated working with smug assholes like that. If it wasn't dealing with Slipstream's slag, it was Banzaitron calling him in for an assist because he couldn't muster up the courage to finish off the enemy by himself.

"Settle down, Onslaught. We've got the bastards before and we'll get them again." Vortex said. "It's no problem for us, right?"

"I wouldn't be worried if it wasn't for the disturbing fact that someone got the jump on Banzaitron. That's damn near impossible for someone like him." Onslaught crossed his arms and grunted.

"Don't worry about that. When everything's said and done, we can force him to pay twice the amount he paid us last time." Vortex chuckled. "It's a tactic worthy of Swindle."

"Where is that little bastard anyway?" Brawl asked.

"Somewhere on some wayward space station for lowlifes like him." Blast Off said. "Don't worry, he'll find his way to us soon. Getting rid of Swindle is like getting rid of a face plate. You hate 'em, but you need 'em."

"You hate face plates?" Vortex asked.

"Yup." Blast Off nodded.

"But we all have them."

"Yeah. You try eating energon goodies with these damn things."

Onslaught shook his head. "Good grief."

Almost half an hour later, a silver, streamlined starship appeared in front of their shuttle from fold space, forcing them to stop in place. Once the ships were connected via tractor beam, Onslaught and his team waited at the air lock for their orders.

"When I see that pretentious slagheap I'm gonna shove my fist through his chest and see where he has his T-cog." Onslaught grumbled.

When the door slid open, the Combaticons were greeted by the battered and severely damaged form of Banzaitron, who was struggling to stand on his own power. His partner, however, was an even bigger shock to the team.

"You?!" Blast Off exclaimed, backing away.

Deadscream gave the Combaticons a devilish grin and waved at them. "Howdy, how's it hangin' little mechs? Got room for one more on the operation?"

XXXXXX

"We just lost out forward guns." Waverider said, grunting a bit as another explosion rocked the ship violently. "How is she tearing us up like this?"

"I think she's yelling something out there." Landmine said, watching the femme fly streaks around them.

"What could she possibly be saying to us while torching out ship, Landmine?" Groundbreaker asked, not even trying to sound like he cared one bit.

Landmine listened to the comm-link and grimaced. "Well…I can give you three guesses, and they all start with D."

"Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die!" Ba chanted repeatedly, cackling like a witch as she slowly tore apart the shuttle. She spread no expense in unleashing her power on the helpless Autobots. Charging up one large blast, she fired a golden energy beam into the portside of the Manifold and engulfed the entire left side of the ship in bright orange flames. Through the smoke and dying flames, she saw the ship's force barrier flicker a bit before dissipating.

"Guys, our power grid just went down and our shields with them!" Cloudburst announced, getting his crew's attention. "Navigational helm and tactical history are also on the fritz. The hostile known as Ba has made short work of our limited defensive options."

"In short, we're dead in five nano-kliks." Waverider groaned.

"Guys, it's been an honor serving with you for all these years." Cloudburst gave his team a sad, resigned smile. "Let's hope that the others succeed where we have failed."

The Autobots closed their eyes as they waited for the final blow to bring their inevitable end, hoping that they would not feel pain when they finally went offline. But as Ba circled around to deliver the final blow to the front of their ship at the bridge, a message came through the rough static on their radios.

" _Crew of the Mirror-Manifold,"_ Nosecone's voice said through the static. " _Prepare for ship to ship jump!"_

They had only a second to marvel at this miracle before they were gone from the bridge in the blink of an eye, vanishing just as Ba fired an aether blast into the bridge and destroyed it in a massive fireball. The rest of the Mirror Manifold split apart, engulfed in explosions as its engines finally ignited and detonated, completely destroying the ship. Despite the destruction of the shuttle, Ba wasn't stupid. She knew her prey had escaped her.

"You cowards!" She snarled at the larger transports cruiser. "I'll have your Sparks!"

"Welcome to the other side." Scattershot greeted the four dazed Autobots once they appeared in the ship's cargo hold. "Sorry we cut it fine. This boat isn't built for speed."

"But it comes with other refinements." Nosecone motioned to the four vats next to them. Each vat contained a large, bulky armored suit that looked like a weaponized hazmat suit made to their scale. Cloudburst and his team marveled at the brand new toys and he recognized the look of the suits-the same kind of carapace Thunderwing had molded onto his frame.

"Is this…?" He questioned.

"That is a little present, courtesy of Raz. All of your "defensive options" in one mean, moody, and magnificent package. Brought to you by the Technobots!" Lightspeed smirked. "Now…you guys wanna take 'em out on a test run?"

Outside, Ba was approaching the Nightwing at full speed, her thrusters like golden solar flares in the darkness of space as she burned her internal supply of quintessence to increase her speed. She was still enraged for having her prey escape her talons seconds after destruction and she was out for blood.

"You aren't getting away from me that easily!" Ba screamed. "Don't think for a moment you can cheat me out of my rightful kill!"

As she neared the ship, a glint from something metallic caught her eye. Ba took a closer look and saw four large figures emerge from the air lock and fly straight towards her. It was the Bot who were escaped her…and they were clad in four large armored suits that were heavily armed and ready for combat.

"Did you think we'd run away? Perish the thought!" Cloudburst said. Pointing his ion cannon at her, he yelled back to his team. "Come on, guys, let's show her why you shouldn't piss off an Autobot scientist!"

XXXXXX

Springer and his Wrecker's used the rare break from fighting Thunderwing for his wounded soldiers to be removed from the field and for his team to replenish their ammo. By some grace of Primus, they hadn't suffered any casualties, yet, but that was only because Thunderwing wasn't chasing after them like a solar storm. As they hid outside the cave, Springer remained in contact with Jetfire.

" _Springer, I'm now in the deepscape."_ Jetfire said from his axis cradle, a cable hooked into the back of his neck. His mind was already in the process of accessing Thunderwing's mindscape, which was about as chaotic as the beast himself. " _Whoa. It's…a doozy in here."_

"Stay with me firecracker. Can you get a hold of Thunderwing?" Springer asked.

" _H-Hold on. Just give me a second_." He grunted, trying to remain focused on his task. " _There are no_ external barriers _, so I should be able to adapt to Thunderwing's interface_." After a moment she let out a whistle. " _Primus, this place is empty."_

Springer tightened his grip on his cannon as Thunderwing started lumbering out of the cave in its thickly armored secondary form. He noticed that its movements were slow and clunky, like someone was leading it by strings on its arms and legs. Jetfire must have been having a hell of a time trying to control the thing.

"Can we move in now?" Roadbuster asked.

"Yes. Move in!"

Springer signaled his team to enter the cave, running past the shaking Thunderwing. Time wasn't on their side and they had to make the most of each precious minute, but fortunately, they didn't have to go far. Just a single turn in the tunnel led them to the nega-core and its loadstone payload.

" _Is it there?"_ Jetfire asked.

"Yeah, it's here. Thing looks creepy as hell. How are things-" Springer heard a loud bang on the other side. "Jetfire, what happened?"

" _Well, two things went down. One, someone's trying to overwrite my adaptive program, some kind of automatic failsafe. Which means you don't have a lot of time."_

"And the second?"

" _Bludgeon's trying to kill me as we speak."_

"You sound oddly calm despite the imminent danger." He noted.

" _I need to maintain my hold over Thunderwing while also dealing with his built-in failsafes."_ He said. " _Don't worry. I'm silently crying for all of us right now."_

Springer jogged over to Twin Twist, who was at the computer reading up on the materials of the nega-core. "Fissionable compacted matter. Nothing I've seen before. The reaction's already in progress."

"Can you shut it down?"

"Without knowing what it is? No. Don't even try it." Twin Twist said. "I could probably cause its physical makeup to become unstable and having it go boom right then and there."

" _Can be physically relocated?"_ Jetfire asked.

" _Maybe. Hold on…"_

Jetfire jumped when he saw Road Rage hit the console before, her body covered in cuts that were bleeding profusely. The Valkyrie growled and slammed her trilythium steel gauntlets together before charging back into the battle, where Chromia and Firestar were battling Bludgeon.

Chromia was forced on the defensive as Bludgeon assaulted her photon shield with his twin swords, gripping her war axe and swinging at his legs. He jumped back and leaned to the side to avoid the spear point sailing over his head. Firestar tried to recover, but Bludgeon blocked her follow up attack and kicked her away. Chromia swung her axe at his head, but he blocked her strike and almost beheaded her. Before he could press his attack, Chromia bent low and allowed Road Rage to sail over back and slam her gauntlets into Bludgeon's chest, knocking him off his feet and skidding a considerable distance back. Stunned, he was barely able to parry Firestar's flaming spear, which still managed to leave a deep cut in his shoulder.

"I must say, I'm impressed, Autobots." Bludgeon said. "You've managed to graduate from an irritation to a full blown annoyance. That's rare when dealing with Ember."

"Yeah? Well, when your psycho master stops trying to cause another big bang, then we'll stop being annoying." Chromia said.

Bludgeon chuckled as Chromia, Road Rage and Firestar circled around him. He rolled his neck and spun his swords. "Poor, mislead fools. Ember is only a pawn in this, as am I. I merely follow the mandate of my gods, who seek to create a new universe for our kind. A universe where Cybertron is at its core, immortal and undying."

"You're insane. You're only causing mass genocide on a universal scale." Road Rage said.

"Considering we've all spent four million years torching half the galaxy in a stalemated war, this is the least we could do for those poor creatures who gave their lives…fighting for a dream!"

"Shut up!" Chromia lunged at Bludgeon and he met her axe with his swords, clashing with her in a shower of bright sparks.

XXXXXX

Elita-1 and Ember continued to fight furiously, though both femmes were reaching their limit. Elita-1 had lost her sword and shield, forced to engage Ember with only her bare hands, enhanced by her telekinesis. Ember quickly found herself being pushed back by Elita-1's relentless attacks, pummeling her face and chest with powerful blows. The Autobot's hands were already stained with Ember's energon.

'How am I losing?' Ember thought as she hit the wall and was forced to use her arms to block Elita-1's punches. 'How did she get so powerful? She wasn't this strong when we last fought!'

If Ember ever had a fatal flaw, it was her ability to underestimate her allies and enemies. She was a master strategist and a capable fighter, but her belief in her dolem "gods" led her to believe that her foes could not learn, could adapt to her power. Sadly, she didn't count on Elita-1 preparing for an eventual rematch after their last disastrous encounter back on Cybertron. Elita-1 wanted payback for not being able to protect Alpha Trion, and this was her chance.

'I'm too close to bringing Nova back. I'm too close to let him go now!'

Acting almost on instinct, Ember's hand shot up and caught Elita-1's fist. Holding her fist tight, she kicked her away and punched her in the jaw with a flaming fist, before axe-kicking her in the shoulder and then shooting a compacted fireball into her chest to blast her away. At the same thing, Elita-1 had enough room to fire a force blast into Ember's chest, sending her flying back and slamming into the wall. Both femmes hit the floor at the same time and didn't get up, exhausted and hurt now that their fight took a pause.

"Why?" Elita-1 panted, feeling her internal systems overheat. "Why do this? What are you trying to achieve by infecting our universe with that…plague?"

"That plague is simply another universe, one composed of nothing but darkness and decay. A polar opposite of our creational force. We…found it amongst the Proudstar…or it found us…it is the Dead Universe. The darkness left over from some cosmic catastrophe that consumed every living thing in that reality." Ember said, wiping energon from her mouth and getting to one knee, but unable to do anything more. "The taint from the Dead Universe infects all life, killing it and making slaves of those it resurrects. I was once like that, but the dolems purified me, saved me. I was alive once more, but Nova still sits in stasis as its slave. And I will bring him back to right your wrongs!"

"By annihilating all of creation. Ember, I know what you're planning. You think the dolems can negate the Dead Universe with their powers, but that's little more than a gamble!"

"You haven't seen their power. With the power of the Queens, they will merge this universe and that one to create a new existence, one where our kind has evolved beyond our limitations." Ember stood up unsteadily. "All that's left is to take out you pests who actually thought you were achieving something by destroying out world!"

Ember lunged forward and punch Elita-1 twice in the face. She keeled over, but Ember picked her up and threw her into the floor. But Elita-1 managed to tear off a floor panel and stab it into Ember's side. Ember stumbled back, pulling the metal shrapnel with a pained hiss.

"You're just a femme being led around by aliens with a god complex!" Elita-1 spat. "And now you cater to their whims as they seek to control us too!"

"Spare me, Elita-1. I am the one in control." Ember said. "Call it what you want, but this is progress-evolution! We cybertronians shall become a template for an entirely new universe. It is simply our due and fitting destiny."

"What you call progress, I call playing god." Elita-1 stood up and got into a fighting stance. "And I'm not a firm believer in destiny."

"Then allow me to convert you." Ember's eyes glowed as she summoned the last of her power. She was going to finish this for good!

XXXXXX

"No, no, no! How is this happening?" Kopesh snarled. He sat in the bowels of his bunker trying to manage the progression of the loadstone's burnout rate. The amount of quintessence they were drawing from nearby worlds was enough to require constant vigilance on his part or else the energy could cause the fissionable matter to explode before the estimated time. "What are you fools doing? Stop them!"

Things were steadily falling apart on Terra. He just learned that Mercurius and Vayeate were engaged with an Autobot team, half of which were now securing the warp gate. Time was running out and Kopesh could do little else but monitor things from his station and hope that these fools would get their act together.

"Not so tough with your face smashed in, huh?" Sideswipe taunted as he stood over Mercurius' body. He wasn't looking too good himself either, but at least he was still standing. "Now where's…"

He ducked under a beam from Vayeate and smirked. "Let's go big girl!"

Vayeate transformed to tank mode and fired repeatedly at Sideswipe, who also transformed and drove circles around her. She was just as hard to damage as she looked, but she as nothing he couldn't handle.

"Man, didn't think the kid was this good." Warpath said as he watched Sideswipe fight.

"Sideswipe's no slouch when it comes to combat, that much is true." Hound nodded. "And he's got a lot of frustration to burn up before the days over."

"Hound, we have to go!" Warden called out.

"I know. Road Rocket, you're with me. Warpath, you and Warden have your assignment. Skram-"

"Yeah, yeah," Skram sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Go get the psycho."

Back in the bunker, Kopesh turned his sights to the situation on Rotan and saw that things were going just as well as he thought-badly. Monstructor was now being attacked by a Decepticon strike unit, led by the same team who retrieved him from Garrus-9, the Combaticons. The four mechs attacked with the force of an army and Monstructor was actually having a hard time fighting back with all the firepower directed at its weak points. Then Kopesh saw who was leading the overall charge alongside Banzaitron-an insane femme he never thought he'd see again.

"Come on, you cowards! Fight, fight, and keep fighting until your joints seize up! I thought you bozos were Decepticons!"

The silver jet barking orders at the terrified Cons flew over Monstructor's head, shooting missiles at his back and head while dropping high-powered bombs down on his shoulders. Vortex laid down heavy fire support with his artillery guns until Monstructor threw a large boulder at him that smacked him out of the air and sent him crashing to the ground. He landed on the steps of the large temple they were fighting in hard before transforming to robot mode.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a little dazed." Vortex groaned, waving off Blast Off before standing up. "I swear, that glitch is going to get us killed. Why the hell are we following her?"

"Because she'll leave us alone and not pull out our brain modules through our consumption ports." Blast Off replied. Vortex sighed.

"Good point." He said. "If it's not Slipstream heckling us, it's Deadscream's creepy ass."

"Ah!" Axer hit the ground next to them, dislocating his shoulder on impact. But the bounty hunter/arms dealer ignored the pain as he jumped back up and fired his twin cannons, running back into battle, shooting at Monstructor's legs.

"Somebody give that guy a raise." Vortex remarked.

Kopesh shook his head, snarling in frustration at the results he was getting. Looking over at Ba's status, he saw that she was being held back at bay by four Autobot scientists clad in polydermal armor. Two broke off, Cloudburst and Waverider, and flew straight into the heart of the anomaly, vanishing into the portal leading into the Dead Universe.

"Everything's falling apart!" Kopesh howled.

XXXXXX

"Easy there, Twin Twist, don't want to jostle this thing too much." Topspin said. Twin Twist was helping him move the nega-core out of the generator for transportation, a risky move since one wrong move could cause it to explode. The nega-core felt extremely hot to the touch thanks to the supercharged loadstone inside, but thankfully it wasn't scalding hot. "Springer, how are things out there?"

Outside, Springer was keeping his gun pointed at Thunderwing, who was twitching and struggling to move from his position. "Thunderwing's twichin' like Whirl in a sensory deprivation room. Raz's losing control of him, so hurry it up!"

"Okay. Listen up, guys-take the final restraining rod from the accelerator cap and ease the stone from its gravity pocket. "Topspin instructed the other teams on Rotan and Bhul's fourth moon. "The moment it's clear, establish a null containment field around it and prep for immediate relocation."

Back on Terra, Skram exited the warp gate looking a bit disturbed. "Magnus, mission accomplished. Didn't take much to convince that maniac to break off her free for all."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ultra Magnus said dryly. "And you sent her on her way?"

"Yup. But…where does the fourth portal lead to?"

Unseen by the Autobots, the privacy of his ship allowed Ultra Magnus to give a small smirk. "Gorlam Prime."

XXXXXX

"Those fools actually breached the loadstone!" Kopesh's fingers worked along the control crystals in his chamber that allowed him control over the warp portals. "I have to lockdown the stargates before-"

Kopesh's danger sense went off and he jumped back to avoid the neutron blast that destroyed his console. He spun around and glared at his attacker.

"You." He growled.

"Yes," Deadscream walked out of the shadows with that infuriating smirk of hers. "Me."

Kopesh gave a canine growl and looked at the hidden compartments in the walls of his chamber. "Mastema, kill her!"

The walls slid apart and two dozen Mastema dolem marched out of their resting places, golden weapons in hand as they advanced on Deadscream. She grinned and drew her flaming swords, cackling in glee.

"Yes, that's it. Keep squirming." Her mouth split open in a wide, bloody grin. "I love it when my prey squirms!"

XXXXXX

Ember summoned what little power she had left in her body to unleash a massive wave of flames at Elita-1. Elita-1 formed a TK barrier around her body and leapt forward, pushing through the intense flames and kicking Ember in the chest. Flipping over Ember, she spun her around and slammed her fist into her face. Ember stumbled back, allowing Elita-1 just enough time to summon her sword.

"I won't lose here!" Ember roared. As Elita-1 brought her sword down, Ember grabbed the blade and snapped it apart, twisting it in her hand and stabbing it into Elita-1 shoulder. Elita-1 hissed in pain, but she ignored it and continued with her attack, jamming the broken sword directly into Ember's chest, stabbing straight into her Spark core.

The flames on Ember's wings immediately died out, and Ember gasped as she felt the blade pierce her Spark…then her mind registered the pain. She gave a horrific shriek and blasted Elita-1 away. Pulling the sword hilt from her chest, Ember charged up what quintessence she had left and channeled it into her arm, firing a blast at her. Elita-1, pushing all available power to her legs, charged forward and grabbed Ember's arm, diverting the blast into a generator. Elita-1 used her telekinesis, focusing on Ember's wings before tearing them off her back. Ember gave another wail and tried to hit Elita-1, but the Autobot caught her other arm and tore it off with a great surge of strength. Pulling the blade shard from her shoulder, Elita-1 stabbed it into Ember's neck and stared into Ember's flickering eyes.

"Return…to nothing!" Elita-1 hissed before lifting Ember's body over her head and threw her into one of the giant fission chambers.

As soon as Ember was vaporized by the giant pillar of solar energy, what power she had disappeared with her. With her death, the dolems attacking the prison all froze in the middle of battle, frozen in combat with the Autobots. The Autobots defending the prison were especially confused, even more so when the dolems regained motion and returned to the spherical asteroid transports that brought them there. Searchlight watched it all from the comm-center and couldn't help but vocalize his confusion.

"What the hell just happened?"

XXXXXX

Jetfire was still monitoring the situation on Corata-Vaz, still struggling with Thunderwing's emerging consciousness despite Kopesh's preoccupation on Gorlam Prime. The Valkyries were still battling Bludgeon, and it was clear that both parties were starting to feel the exhaustion set in.

"Hurry guys! There's no telling how long we have until that thing detonates!" Jetfire said. He was still in the process of shutting down Thunderwing's neural net to stop him in his tracks for good, while also coordinating the disposal of the loadstones across the galaxy.

At the same time, Cloudburst's team was entering the Dead Universe with the three loadstones delivered to them through the warp gates. Almost immediately upon entering the abstract reality, they noticed the circuit-freezing cold and oppressive aura coming from the darkness. There was nothing; no stars, no planets, not even asteroids. Just floating pieces of rock many of them sporting a collection of bright purple/magenta crystals growing from them.

"Primus, to think reality like this exists." Cloudburst muttered. He took a second to give the crystals a closer look. "Hmm…what is this?"

" _Cloudburst, how are things on your end?"_ Jetfire asked. " _Do you detect any living beings?"_

"Nothing can live in here, Jetfire. This place is unable to support any kind of life. There's just one big…void. All I can see are these strange purple crystals." Cloudburst said. An alert on his suit's HUD made him focus. "Scrap, this place is killing our exo-shells in tiny increments."

" _Then drop the bombs and get out of there!"_

"No need to tell us twice! Jettisoning loadstones now!" Waverider announced.

They let go of the loadstones and allowed them to drift away into the dark void. Cloudburst took a moment to grab a few of the crystals before following his team back through the portal just as it began collapsing into itself.

Once they were outside, Cloudburst looked back and saw the anomaly slowly shrinking, losing its gravitational force. "Jetfire, the anomaly-it's closing!" Cloudburst said. "We did it!"

Jetfire collapsed in his seat, now letting his exhaustion take over. "We did it. It's over!"

"Grah!"

Jetfire jumped as he heard Bludgeon cry out. He was on one knee, clutching his head in pain. Chromia and Road Rage stood over him cautiously while Firestar hung back nursing a bleeding shoulder.

"Why? Why do you torment me so?" He groaned, wincing in agony as painful pulsations surged through his cybernetic brain. "I…have failed you, Mem Aleph. Please, forgive me!"

"Whoever that is should be the last thing you should be worried about." Chromia growled, shoving the blade of her axe under his chin. "Go ahead and try something. I'm definitely in a killing mood right now."

"With pleasure." Bludgeon took out a small pearl into his hand and smashed it against his chest. His body was engulfed in a bright white aura that pushed the two femmes back. When the light vanished, Bludgeon was gone, a scorch mark where he once stood.

Chromia threw her axe to the ground and cursed. "Frag! Can we not have a fragging Con pull a disappearing act on us for once?!"

XXXXXX

Kopesh ran down the tunnel towards the portal to the Dead Universe with Deadscream tearing apart his micromaster soldiers behind him. The only reason she hadn't caught up to him anyway was because the three remaining mastema dolems were still holding her back.

'If everything's as bad as this, then chances are that Ember is dead.' Kopesh thought. 'If that's the case, then I need to return to Mem Aleph. She'll have the power to-'

"You can't escape me, Kopesh!"

Deadscream pounced on him from behind, grabbing onto him. He grabbed her head and threw her into the ground before leaping back to avoid the sword she slashed at him. Deadscream fired her neutron cannons, but Kopesh summoned a photon shield to defend him. Taking out his sickles, Kopesh dueled with her in a clash of metal and sparks, parrying her fast strikes and landing hits of his own, though they

When she charged at him, he blocked her fierce strikes and kicked her in the head before blasting her in the chest with a photon beam. She backed off as he faced her, with the silver pool rippling behind him.

"Wrong. Where I go, you cannot follow. My control over quintessence protects me from the brunt of the Dead Universe's decay, but your immortality can only protect you for so long. And I know you don't want to spend an eternity rotting and regenerating endlessly." Kopesh smirked at the scowl she gave him. He slowly backed up towards the pool, waiting for any sudden movements from her. "Unless you want to lose your only chance of getting revenge, you're going to have to force yourself to pay the ultimate price."

"She doesn't have to!"

"What?" Kopesh turned around and saw a large form rising out of the pool. The silver liquid fell away o reveal the Autobot he thought to be dead. "Hardhead?"

"Yes. And you're in no condition to run or fight." Hardhead said. "Now it's time to reap what you sow."

Kopesh growled and made to attack Hardhead, but a fiery blade stabbed into his back and tore out through his chest. Deadscream twisted the sword in his back as she leaned in and patted his head. "Nice doggy."

She raised her other sword and swiftly beheaded the mech, violently severing the headmaster from his body. Kopesh's headmaster transformed to robot mode as he hit the ground and tried to scurry away, still twitching from the unplanned disconnection that caused him to have a partial mental relapse. Deadscream didn't bother moving, knowing that he wouldn't get away in this state.

"Hardhead, right? Tell me, will he die here?" Deadscream asked him. Hardhead shook his head.

"No. this place lies at the boundaries between worlds. You die here and part of you will belong to the darkness on the other side. In the universe where you'll simply exist." He said. "Here, where the worlds mesh, he's virtually immortal."

"Yeah? That's…actually, that suits me just fine." Deadscream spun around and threw her sword at Kopesh, impaling his little body in the chest and pinning him to the ground. Turning back to his transector body, she began hacking away at the motionless husk, sometimes switching targets to cut his little body into metal chunks.

She was fine with this deal. It meant that she could kill Kopesh again and again and again and again and again and again…

XXXXXX

Elita-1 sat in Garrus-9's med bay awaiting her repairs as she drank some energon to refuel from her intense battle. Firestar and many other Autobots were undergoing some repairs as well. They were the lucky ones. Ember alone had killed dozens and the attacking dolems killed many more. So many dead.

"Thunderwing's body is being transported to a white star as we speak to melt the bastard won for good. No news on Monstructor, but word on the solar winds is that the Combaticons are hunting his components down after they hauled ass. Ultra Magnus has the Magnificence, or what's left of it. The damn thing shattered after Rodimus used it before returning to Terra. Aside from Nightbeat, almost everyone made it out alive." Chromia sighed and rubbed the back of her head. "This was a fine mess. And all because of some femme wanting to see her man again."

"It wasn't just that, Chromia. Ember fought so hard to kill us all because she thought we were a lost cause. She thought she was doing Nova a favor killing us, and to be honest, I can see why she would have no faith in us." Elita-1 said. "It's hard not to say frag it when you're watching your race slowly die out because of a civil war that refuses to end. Some people just couldn't take it anymore. Like Ember and her Order."

"Well she's dead now, right. Think the Order might disband?"

"I doubt it. Ember was in league with the dolems, the same creatures assaulting Optimus's team on Terra. So long as their false gods order it, they'll keep coming at us, ripping and tearing at both sides from the inside. All while we continue to kill each other." She shook her head. "Until that happens, we'll fix our wounds and keep on trying to win this war, or at least end it on our terms."

Chromia smiled and lightly punched Elita-1's shoulder. "It's what we're good at, Elita."

Elita-1 smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. One enemy was gone, but another more powerful one was still waiting to fight them. And Elita-1 didn't know if they could survive another direct confrontation this time.

XXXXXX

"Hmm, this is odd." Cloudburst muttered as he looked through the proton microscope (a gift from Brainstorm of all people) at the purple crystals he snatched from the Dead Universe.

He had the crystals sitting in a containment cell to make sure he wasn't corrupted by the taint it gave off. Fortunately, it wasn't the same darkness that infested the Dead Universe, but it was something else. Something…primal. After resting up a bit after the operation, he quickly brought it to the lab and ran some tests on the crystal to see just what it was.

"Cloudburst?" Waverider entered the lab and saw his friend at the examination table. "What are you doing here? You should be resting."

"I know, but something wasn't right about these crystals I snatched up. I had to see what was up with them before I got some shut eye." Cloudburst said.

"You sure you should be fooling around with that?" Waverider asked.

"I've taken precautions. After going into that void, I'm not taking any chances."

Waverider didn't feel totally convinced, but he let it go in favor of his own curiosity. "So…what did you find out about those things?"

"These crystals, I thought I was wrong after the first test, but after the fifth test run, I can no longer deny it. These crystals have the same physical makeup of energon." Cloudburst stood up and looked at Waverider with a grim expression. "No, it's actual energon. Just in a form I've never seen before."

Waverider looked at the crystals uneasily. Just being near them was enough for him to feel the dense aura it emanated even through the glass. "What is energon doing in the Dead Universe?"

Cloudburst shook his head and sighed. "I don't know. Honestly, Waverider, I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that question."

The darkly colored energon continued to pulsate faintly, like a heartbeat, all while its taint slowly filled the room. Though the Autobots didn't know it, the discovery of this energon would be the prelude to many tragedies in the far future that will decide the fate of the cybertronian race, their planet, and the universe itself.

* * *

 **That's it for Distant Stars. Stay tuned for the sequel, Transformers Titan: Mosiac that will be published alongside Transformers Titan: Devastation. Thanks for**

 **bearing with me rewriting this whole story, and I hope you'll keep reading future stories to see more of your favorite characters. Thanks for reading, and**

 **please leave a review.**


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